How To Love a Prince
by jianne
Summary: Don’t bother reading this nonsense. This is just one of those prince-and-princess-sitting-on-a-tree stories, except for the fact that they happen to be in modern times. An utterly waste of time, so do move on to the next fanfic.
1. Spunky and Buttercup

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How To Love A Prince

by Jianne

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather wild) imagination and/or are used fictitiously (for the sole purpose of entertainment and nothing else) and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Cardcaptor Sakura characters (you know they do) and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

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Dedication

To L of Death Note.

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Vocabulary

Heika – His/Her/Your Majesty

Kokyo – Imperial Palace

Hai – Yes

Kotaishi – Crown Prince

Kotaigo – Empress Dowager

Torii – Shrine Gate

Takoyaki – Some kind of a street food

Yabusame – Horseback Archery

Baka - Idiot

Hakama – Traditional pants usually for men

Konichiwa! – Hello!

O-genki desu ka? – How are you?

Kakejiku – A Shinto burial tradition

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Juuust Before You Read

You won't be able to understand half the story if you ignore the Japanese words, believe me. As you read, try to scroll up to the Vocabulary List or something.

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1Sho – Spunky and Buttercup

"_She has come, Heika."_

--

Narita International Airport

Early Spring

--

Home.

She couldn't believe it. "I'm in Japan," she softly whispered, "I'm finally in Japan." Her large light aquamarine eyes almost fanatically followed the people bustling about—some were hurrying to the glass doors, others were hugging their loved ones while a few were eagerly looking for those waiting to welcome them home. She took a deep breath and tightened the wrap of her large lavender overcoat, desperately trying to calm her pounding heart and nerves.

For the past seventeen years, she has never considered America as her home. Sakura was told that she had been in Japan before, but only once, when she had been so young that she had no real memories to remember from her short visit. But it has always been the idea of going back to Japan that has her chest hammering, her insides churning, and her throat choking up—the similar symptoms of falling in love, her grandfather used to tease her.

"_Japan is your home, Sakura, always remember that."_

Her eyes misted at the heartwarming memory. Sakura missed her kind grandfather terribly. Coming from the side of their mother, Grandpa Satoshi had been the only relative Sakura and her older siblings, Sayuri and Touya, had, which was why he had become their guardian after their parents' car crash almost thirteen years ago. To focus his attention to his grandchildren, he immediately retired from being the president of a fairly big corporation he started when he was younger and left his stocks to do the work. From their peaceful life in Los Angeles, Grandpa Satoshi had helped them recover from the shock and grief to be able to adjust to their new life in Chicago.

He had been their father, their mother, their teacher and their friend. He had helped them see learning as an enjoyable privilege, instead of the means to get a good job someday. During sunny days, they would go to the park and play soccer. Afterwards, when they would come home exhausted, their grandpa would tell them stories about the samurais, the great emperors and the hardships his beloved country had undergone through the process of development and modernization.

But he hadn't limited their informal education to Japanese history. Having acquired an incomparable knowledge during his younger years, he had taught them Chinese, French and Spanish, as well as world history and literature. By the time Sakura and Sayuri had entered high school, their intelligence alone would have made Touya's college friends look up to them. And Nature, as if wanting to compensate for their early acquaintance with the harsh reality, also blessed them with lovely appearance. Although many had always commented on the similarity of the sisters' looks, it was always Sayuri whom everybody considered the beauty of their school. With long hazel wavy locks only two shades darker than Sakura's and matching eyes that reminds one of copper, Sayuri was the mature, calm and collected older Kinomoto. In the peculiar way that Nature works, Sakura's personality was the exact opposite. She was vibrant, friendly, impulsive and extremely outspoken. Because love wasn't something that they were deprived of, Sakura turned into this optimistic, carefree teenager who strongly believes that in the end, everything's going to be alright. While it was mainly Sayuri's beauty and intellect that initially attracted the people around her, it was the honest, artless laugh and smile of Sakura that made everyone in hearing range smile as well.

Sakura sighed. She fished out her cell phone from the pocket of her coat and turned it on. What greeted her was the wallpaper picture of the Kinomoto siblings with their grandpa, taken only two weeks ago. Sayuri was making a funny face; Sakura was dragging Touya and forcing him to take the picture with them while Grandpa Satoshi was enclosing them all in a big hug. It had been Sakura's surprise celebration party for having passed the Princeton University's entrance exam. Touya had come back from the family company in Los Angeles to drop by for the weekend while Sayuri was enjoying her early spring break from college with her longtime boyfriend. All her American friends had been there, including her lifelong crush, Tsukishiro Yukito, whom had been Touya's best friend ever since junior high. Her gaze dropped to their grandfather's laughing face. _We were so happy that day_, Sakura thought.

She checked the letter Grandpa Satoshi had left for her. His grandfather was actually the very reason why she flew in to Japan. She just wished it wasn't his grandpa's grave-to-be she'd be going to in an hour. He had left specific instructions for Sakura where to bury his ashes. Although Grandpa Satoshi lived in the U.S. most of his life, his last wish was for his remains to be rested at the in Kanagawa.

Sakura sniffed and blinked back the tears forming on her eyes. "Darn it. I can't cry now. I haven't even lasted an hour yet…" she muttered. Squaring her shoulders, she clutched her suitcase and turned her heels towards the wide transparent doors, all the time convincing herself that everything was going to be just fine.

After all, she _was_ home.

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Kokyo, Tokyo

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"If everything is settled then you may go now."

Elegantly garbed in a kimono of fine peach-colored silk, a lady of over seventy years gestured to a man wearing a casual uniform which was pure white, except for the large, circular emblem on his arm.

The Imperial Palace Security Corps.

"Hai, Heika." He said with a bow, and, with the stealth required of all palace servants, he took his leave.

The moment the sliding door closed soundlessly, the lady exhaled and put down the book she had been pretending to read. Then she rested against the sofa, bare of the composure and grace she has been perfectly executing just seconds earlier. Yawning, she muttered, "I'm supposed to be enjoying my retirement now," and, without as much as glancing, she called out, "Too much stress for so little entertainment this is, don't you think so, Azumi–san?"

The official lady-in-waiting of the elderly lady replied with a hint of a smile, "What do _you_ think, Kimiko-san?" If she were heard by someone else, she would have been slapped and then fired; but the lady had long ago kindly offered familiarity with her—at least whenever they were alone. As she'd expected, Kimiko let out a soft chuckle, still cautious of anyone who was in hearing range outside the door. "I think," she took out a piece of paper from a torn envelope, "that someone's in for a surprise. What about that, Azumi–san?"

"I believe that _you_ will make sure the Kotaishi is in for a lot more than a mere surprise, Kimiko-kotaigo."

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Kamakura, Kanagawa Prefecture

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1:51 PM. Sakura checked her watch and was amazed to see that her hotel check-in and her travel to the shrine had taken less than an hour. "I guess there's not much traffic in Japan, right, Mr. Kazuhiro?" she asked the taxi cab driver whom she was making fast friends with despite the language barrier. Although Grandpa Satoshi had educated Sakura everything he knew of the Japanese olden times, he had stubbornly refused to further his teachings from that, and this resulted to Sakura's ignorance of the country's complex traditions and its national language.

The middle-aged driver shook his head, grinning. "No _trapiku_. No _trapiku_." He swerved to the left by the traffic light, and pulled up the car. "Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gu," he announced, pointing to the long steps at the end of the avenue.

Sakura smiled, overwhelmed with the excitement that has been bubbling up in her ever since she stepped into Japan. "_Arigato gozaimasu_, Mr. Kazuhiro!" The man seemed rather pleased that she could at least thank him in Japanese. When Sakura reached out to him her payment after dismounting the cab, he just shook his head. "_Furi_. No. _Furi_. Okay?" It took Sakura a moment to understand that the old man has just given her a _free_ ride. She hesitated at first, but the kind man just grinned and drove on. "Ohh. Well, _arigato_ again!" She waved until she could no longer see the cab down the road.

With a deep breath, she tightened her grasp on the knot of the cloth which was holding the urn of her grandfather's ashes. "This is where you'll rest in peace from now on, Grandpa," Sakura whispered, in awe of the scenery. She walked past the torii and through the avenue proudly lined with huge cherry blossom trees. The flowers were caressed by the wind, gently blowing them away from the sight.

With her mp4 player's earphones blasting full music in her ears, she was determined not to be disturbed by the noises the cars and the crowds were making. A digital camera was in Sakura's hand the next minute, snapping pictures of almost everything she could see from where she was standing: children playing hide and seek under the trees, lovers walking down the shrine, high school friends eating at a small takoyaki tent by the sidewalk and young girls blushing over their fortunes. Sighing happily, Sakura wandered off around the largest shrine. _I wish I could live here forever_, she told herself. Now that she thought about it, she wondered if Tokyo University was anywhere near the shrine. Last year, she had secretly taken an entrance exam to the national university's Faculty of Letters at the Japanese Embassy in Chicago. She had hoped to study in Japan for college, not in Princeton University, where Sayuri and Touya had gone to. Her acceptance letter will be arriving this month, just as the e-mail from the university had gladly informed her a week ago.

Sakura was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize she has just passed by a large sign before walking through a dirt path crossing. After several minutes of being absorbed by the pictures in her digital camera, she looked up just in time to see a round object dashing towards her in lightning speed. It was only a split-second—Sakura suddenly couldn't move her body. She could only watch the object whiz past her left cheek by half an inch. After a moment of realization, she lost her balance, and she ungracefully landed on the ground with a thud, her ears now bare of earphones and her camera tumbling a few feet away from her. She turned shakily to see what the object could have been, half-expecting a wall with a bullet hole in it.

A turnip-headed arrow was at the dead center of a wooden square board.

"Yabusame?" No sooner than she gasped out her wild guess did she hear horses' loud thumps of hooves on the ground. When she finally managed to look up, there was a small army of persons clothed in white and black, all with bows and arrows.

"Baka!" Sakura scrambled to her feet at the sound of the growling deep voice from the front.

A tall, grim-faced chestnut-haired man dismounted from his equally harsh-looking black horse and marched towards her, all the while cursing her in Japanese. Unable to understand what he was telling her, Sakura simply blinked at the man wearing a white undergarment beneath a plain black traditional kimono and solid grey hakama. Sakura thought he looked every bit like a samurai then. The man looked a little taken aback. Then, as if trying to regain his composure, he heaved a sigh and slightly shook his head.

Naïvely thinking that it was her turn to greet this man, Sakura cheerfully said, "Konichiwa!" She waited for the man to greet her back (as her pocket-sized Japan Tour Guide certainly, _certainly_ promised) but when he simply stared at her as if she were some strange animal in the zoo, she tried again. "O-genki desu ka?"

_This girl has some nerve_, Syaoran thought, trying very hard to stop the twitching of his eye. Determined to cut this conversation with this weird kid foreigner, he finally said, "What do you think you're doing?" The quick display of shock, incredulity and utter relief on the girl's large, expressive eyes of odd color was so startling that Syaoran could barely veil his sudden amusement.

"Finally! Someone who could speak English!" Sakura said out loud, her relief overpowering the warning of the temper in the man's voice. Having decided that she has to become friends with this man, she opened her mouth to talk, but was interrupted by a loud, almost forced, chuckle behind the man she was talking to. A dark-haired man with almost the same height and the same white uniform emerged from the group and gracefully descended from his horse. Smiling, he trudged down in their direction and spoke. "Are you okay?" he asked with an accusing glance at the man before her.

"Oh, I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine!" Sakura gestured her hands at them. "That's good," the smiling man said, "By the way, I'm Eriol and you are?" Delighted that she'd be making not just one but _two_ English-speaking friends on her first day in Japan, she answered happily, "Nice to meet you, Eriol. My na—"

"Look," Syaoran was suddenly holding her arm, his dark brown eyes staring down at her, "we did not come here to chat with you. Next time you choose to come skipping into restricted areas, make sure that—"

"This is a restricted area?" Sakura's eyes widened, and, without bothering to wait for an answer, she exclaimed, "I'm really sorry! I—I didn't see any warning sign or anything…I didn't know…" Her voice trailed off as she followed the pointed look both men were giving over her shoulder. Not that far away from them was a huge warning board: NO ENTRANCE: RESTRICTED AREA. _And in English too._ Sakura let out a defeated sigh. _This day's turning out to be so crappy_, she thought.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow at the girl. One second she's lively and full of life and the next second she's as depressed as hell. He sighed. _This girl…_

Discreetly, Eriol was then studying Syaoran. He always had a soft spot for kids. _But this girl..._ Eriol shifted his gaze to the interesting little lady. A heavy knit pale yellow turtleneck was layered to her long lavender coat that reached up to above her knees, leaving only the lower part of her denim jeans. With her fair, if not pale, complexion and her olive-green eyes, she'd be sixteen at the oldest, Eriol guessed. He shook his head. Young as she was, there was no denying that she has pushed her luck too far—trespassing an off-limits area, disrupting a yabusame practice, interrupting Syaoran's words, and most of all, not showing any hint of respect to Syaoran.

Because the first offense normally would have already itched Syaoran's exasperation, Eriol had had to suspend his friend's anger since it would have certainly boosted his already infamous reputation of being cold and impassive, especially now that they were entertaining guests from Spain. Backing off, he cast the unfortunate girl a pitying look. _Too bad. She was so cheerf—_

"Never mind. Just don't do it again," Syaoran said, without looking at her. As if that wasn't shocking enough in Eriol's eyes, Syaoran's hand reached out and rumpled the top of the girl's auburn long hair almost affectionately.

Eriol, who had always prided himself with his calm, collected, gentlemanly exterior, found his mouth hanging open as he did a double take at the scene. Syaoran was looking anywhere but her, yet his hand was still on top of the girl, whose grin now reached to her ears, her offenses apparently forgotten. His thoughts of having Syaoran confined in a hospital were interrupted by the soft, smiling voice of the girl. "If you really forgive me…" Eriol's eyes widened.

"Then, could you smile for me please?"

With superhuman effort, Eriol stopped himself from fainting right then and there. He was so bewildered he couldn't think—say—move—do _anything_ at all to stop the inevitable from happening. "S-Syao—"

A small tug lifted the corner of Syaoran's mouth. "There. Happy?" As soon as he said that, his face returned to the inscrutable, blank face everybody (but the girl) was familiar with. The girl nodded, satisfied. "Yup! I feel better. Well then, I'll be leaving now." After an awkward deep bow, she turned then ran toward the entrance. Before she took a sharp turn out of sight, she waved to them once more and shouted.

"Thanks for being my first friends in Japan!"

He didn't know how long he has been absently staring at the camera he had picked up from the ground, but when he did snap out of it, he found Eriol scrutinizing him, an utterly amused smile on his face. Having decided to entirely ignore him and the rest of what had just happened, Syaoran calmly traced his steps back to the group. Nodding politely at the Spanish visitors, he took the lead back to the field, inwardly anxious to get the stupid private yabusame practice over with.

--

Wakamiya Sub-Shrine, Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine

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An incense stick clasped in both hands, Sakura bowed and kneeled in front of the small memorial place of her deceased grandfather. She then proceeded to burying the bottom part of the stick into the bowl of sand, wishing the soul of Grandpa Satoshi to rest in peace for all eternity. "I hope you're happy up there, Grandpa," she whispered.

"Here. This should be perfect for Kakejiku." Mr. Kiyoshi, the Shinto priest of the uppermost part of the Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine, kneeled beside Sakura and offered her a painting of her grandfather when he was still in his 20's. Sakura gave a slightly puzzled look. "Kakejiku is a Shinto tradition to hang a painting of the deceased, instead of a photograph." He carefully smoothened his long white ceremonial robe before hanging the painting just a little over the gravestone.

Sakura gazed at the kind-looking priest and she wondered what her Grandpa's relationship with him was. The priest carried on to explain when she asked. "We were very good friends, you see. He was actually my only real friend, which was why I was in despair when I received his second letter in over forty years, asking me to take care of his gravesite here in the shrine."

"When did you receive Grandpa's letter?"

His face settled to a somber expression. "About a month ago."

Sakura fought back the growing lump in her throat. _Grandpa had known he was dying two weeks before_. She sighed. But Grandpa Satoshi hadn't expressed any pain nor done unusual big things. As far as Sakura knew, the strangest that he had done during his last weeks was spend more time in his study room, but he hadn't been the type who did things regularly either. To say that his death came as a devastating shock to Sakura, Sayuri and Touya was putting it mildly. The only consolation they held on to was the happy memories their loving grandfather had left. That, and his letters.

Sakura had received hers the day of the funeral, as had Sayuri and Touya. They had quickly filled her in on their letters' contents, which was basically of how Grandpa Satoshi loved them and would miss them. Sakura's, however, was different. She had memorized the last message of the dearest man in her life the day she opened the envelope.

_Dearest Sakura,_

_How are you coming along, my dear? I hope you are well._

_There is one thing I will ask of you, Sakura. I would like my ashes to be put to rest in Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine in Kamakura. My dear friend, Iwao Kiyoshi, will see to the gravesite. Please go as soon as possible._

_Be happy in Japan. I love you, Sakura._

_Grandpa._

Sakura had easily figured out what her Grandpa had implied. Her intention of studying in Tokyo University was no secret to the old man, but he used to always refuse to give in to this particular request. Sakura knew Grandpa Satoshi best, and just like a true Japanese, he would die first before he'd turn back on his pride and his dignity. It was just like him to give his long wanted permission disguised as a burial ritual. Sakura smiled faintly. His want for her to go to Japan was nothing but a discreet shove to the path she was determined to head to and Sakura was eternally grateful for that. The next thing Mr. Kiyoshi told her only confirmed what she had been thinking.

"Satoshi also informed me that I am to be your guardian for your stay here in Japan," he said in a tentative voice, "I hope you understand that I wish only to carry on what your grandfather's last wishes are and therefore I would only want the best for you."

Sakura nodded and offered a polite smile. "I would like that very much, Mr. Kiyoshi."

--

Tower Gate, Main Hall

--

"57, 58, 59…" Sakura jumped on the lowest step. "60!" She muffled her laugh and then playfully turned to the smiling old priest. "I told you there are only 60 steps in this staircase, Mr. Kiyoshi!"

"Why, that's strange. I was sure there was an extra step here just yesterday!" he replied good-naturedly. "You must've counted wrong then. Do try again while I attend to the preparation for the Annual Wakamiya Festival." He solemnly added, "Be safe, will you?"

Sakura nodded and smiled reassuringly at the retreating back of Mr. Kiyoshi. She was happy to have met the kind man. He and Grandpa Satoshi were so similar, it was like having her grandfather back. Both were well-read, intelligent and kind. And she wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Kiyoshi has figured her all out by now either. She had been speaking with him nonstop ever since they'd settled the gravesite. Sakura absently turned to the few people lingering around the grounds and then lifted her eyes to the orange-tainted sky, wondering if Satoshi was looking at her right now. _Hi there, Grandpa…_

Sakura had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear someone walking down to her until he was already beside her.

"61."

Sakura visibly jumped at the voice. She turned, and saw the brown-haired guy from the restricted area. He was wearing dark sunglasses, a black cap, black jeans and a white statement shirt that says, Nice Enough. Compared to the kimono robe he was wearing earlier, the man was so casual that Sakura wouldn't recognize him if he hadn't lowered his sunglasses. She'd remember the golden brown eyes anywhere. "Pardon?"

He turned to her. "There are 61 stone steps. I just counted." He drawled out. They both turned to the long flight of steps behind them and then looked at each other. Sakura blinked. The guy smirked. "Want to bet?" Sakura stared back. "Are you sure? I've climbed back and forth twice already. Besides, we don't even know each other."

The guy shrugged and crossed his arms. "Scared, Spunky?" He'd already given her a nickname. Now with a smirk on her face, Sakura's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, clearly recognizing his challenge. "Don't call me that. What are the stakes?" He gave her a sideways glance and smugly replied, "You decide."

"How about…anything at all?"

Syaoran raised his eyebrows in complete amusement. Doesn't she realize that she's the foreigner here and he the Japanese? Granted, she had looked familiar with the chief priest earlier when he'd passed by, but the number of stone steps didn't really seem like the type of information someone like Iwao-san would give.

Probably mistaking his silence as cowardice, she crossed her arms, mirroring him. "Scared, Buttercup?" Syaoran bit back a chuckle. Did this little girl just try to flirt with—

He studied her laughing taunting eyes. She wasn't flirting alright. She hadn't been happy about being called Spunky and was retaliating with giving him a nickname that was supposed to hurt his manly ego. "Not scared. Confident," he said in a mocking voice.

With a shared nod, they posed in the middle of the first step and proceeded. "One…"

"Two. So…where is Spunky from?" Syaoran asked conversationally and gave her a quick glance. She looked really resolute and overenthusiastic. "What part of 'don't call me that' don't you understand?" She sighed. "Chicago. You?" They reached the fifth step. He silently noted they have just figured out a way to talk and count at the same time.

"I'm from Tokyo. What, I don't look like Japanese?" he asked, slightly surprised at her stare. She paused, as if struggling between counting and answering the question. "Not really, no." She looked up to him for a second. "That is, unless you tell me that's mud in your hair, and that you have accent-stealing powers. Eight." She moved on.

Syaoran hid a grin. He never thought those qualities would ever sound like defects. "The _mud_ color went with the package of genes from my father, and I studied in New Jersey for two semesters, so I had plenty of time to _steal_ all the English from my roommate." He replied, emphasizing her words. She looked a bit embarrassed, obviously catching on his sarcasm. "I didn't mean that," she quickly said, peering up at him guiltily. They both stopped at step number 13. "Now you think I'm the most offensive, ill-mannered—"

"A bit impolite for a little girl, but certainly not the most." Now he really was grinning. When she gave him a quick, hesitant look, he couldn't help but rumple her hair once more. "Buttercup accepts the apology. With a smile, even, just as I thought you'd want him to." Then he flashed an exaggerated white smile at her as they continued to step up. She laughed then, an honest, full, almost melodic laugh that only someone as innocent and pure as Sakura could ever muster. "I never thought it would, but Buttercup suits you very well!"

Syaoran raised an eyebrow and feigned a stern tone. "You know, Spunky should really watch it when you're dealing with the male pride. You'd think I'd be offended by now. Step Eighteen." She simply shrugged and went on to the nineteenth step. "You see that large gingko tree over there?" He pointed to the huge tree just beside the staircase and she nodded. "Minamoto Sanetomo, the Third Shogun, was assassinated by his nephew who hid behind that great tree. All because of his devastated pride." He finished knowingly.

Her hand motioned an extravagant flourish. "It could be about the ego, but it was mainly an issue of jealousy. The Imperial court used to have the authorization to grant official court titles, right? Twenty-two. Because Sanetomo focused on the Kyoto culture, he was quickly promoted—that is, too quickly for his nephew, Minamoto Kugyo, who happened to be serving for a far longer time. Twenty-five. The next thing Sanetomo knew, he was being stabbed to death by a jealous Kugyo right there."

Twenty-nine. Syaoran gazed at her admiringly. _This girl knows her history well._ "Point taken. But you forget that Sanetomo succeeding the Shogunate chair was justifiably a stab in the pride of Kugyo, since he is the first son of Yoriie and all. If you ask me, it's a matter of the cause and its effect. Thirty-seven." The girl nodded. "I completely agree. It _is_ history we're talking about." With a faint smile, she looked at him thoughtfully. Syaoran pocketed his hands. "Okay. Out with it, Spunky."

"Forty." Sakura said instead, silently studying the man beside him. He was tanned, and was largely built. Why, she barely reached his wide shoulders. Her eyes ran to his sculpted jaw, high cheekbones and his pursed mouth. Sakura felt the blood rush to her face. _He does have a rather cute smile, in that reserved, cool way…_ "You do know," he slowly said, jerking her out of her thoughts, "that wearing sunglasses doesn't necessarily mean that I can't see—or in your case, feel—your _admiring_ gaze, right?" Sakura choked on her breath for a good ten seconds, before she let herself speak. _Let me fix that little red wagon of yours._ "I was just thinking that for a man, you don't have that large of an ego. Unfortunately, I'm having second thoughts about it now…"

Syaoran instantly knew what she was doing. Of course, he was not going to bite the bait, so he settled for neutrality. "You're having second thoughts about my ego?" He innocently asked. She gave him an all too-sweet smile. "Your ego? Of course not. Now masculinity—_or in your case_, lack thereof—is another thing." Then she took hurried steps and left him. It was only when she reached step fifty-three that she allowed herself to look back at the frozen man. He looked incredulous. Syaoran slowly lifted his eyes to the girl who was leaning back almost smugly. "Did you just call me…" He trailed off, shuddering at the thought.

_What, gay? _Sakura mentally finished for him. She affirmed his unfinished question by nodding and a raise of an eyebrow. Needless to say, the guy was the farthest from being gay, but she wouldn't let him know that even if it killed her. Slightly wary, Sakura half-expected him to rush to her with rage, flashing his eyes at her…

But he only threw back his head and laughed out loud.

Syaoran couldn't remember the last time he laughed this hard, _if_ he laughed this hard. _She really is spunky_, he thought to himself, taking off his sunglasses. Not many persons, stranger or not, would dare talk to him like that. The girl even used his own words to get back at him! Trying to calm down, he caught on the priceless look of shock on the girl's face which only made him laugh harder. To the girl's discomfiture, he suddenly stopped and began towards her.

Sakura stepped back, higher into the staircase, as the man she knew to have golden brown eyes ascended towards her, his orbs sliding to a darker shade. For every step he took towards her, she marched back. She looked around, at the dark, starless sky, the isolated grounds, the swaying leaves of the gingko tree…anything but the seemingly dangerous man.

"I'll have you know," he lazily drawled out, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively, "you are the first one to ever doubt my…" he paused, as if searching for the right word, "…identity. Granted, you don't know me at all, but all the women I've—" Sakura rolled her eyes and interrupted. "Really? And just how many are we talking about here? Let me think." She didn't. "One?"

Before Sakura could even react, he strode towards her in a flash, until his eyes leveled up to hers. "More like…sixty-one." He said in that low, deep voice that surely went with those looks. Sakura scoffed, disgusted. "Of all the nerve! You keep count of that?" She lifted her left foot back up, but the step she was expecting became suddenly inexistent, and the next thing she knew, a strong arm was around her waist, supporting her from the ground. Her eyes widened when his shadowed face neared hers, and, when he was only a breath away, he whispered.

"I win, Spunky."

Sakura blinked, and when his teasing, amused smile finally registered in her mind, she pushed him and quickly backed off. They were at the top of the flight, and Sakura suddenly found herself trying to steady her legs. When she looked up, however, she found the infuriating guy waiting for her impatiently, his arms crossed once again, his sunglasses back in place. "Fine. What do you want?" she asked, determined to get this over with. His eyebrow rose, as if calling her a sore loser, which Sakura of course wasn't.

He opened his mouth, but hesitated, and at the last second, he turned his back on her and headed for the long flight of stairs. "W-wait!" Sakura called after him, utterly confused and furious by his behavior. When he reached Step Number One, Sakura tried again. "Hey! What about the—"

Despite the great distance of the steps, Sakura saw the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes when he abruptly turned and yelled out to her. "We'll meet again, Spunky!"

Childishly, she stamped her foot in annoyance. "Don't call me that! Arrgh!" Sakura seethed, watching the figure run off.

"Call you what?" Sakura turned, and found Mr. Kiyoshi staring at her curiously. "Spunky!" she almost snapped out.

"Spunky?" he echoed. "Yes! He called me—" Sakura turned to face the grounds and pointed to the distance.

"Who called you?" Kiyoshi moved towards her and looked at the grounds. "He—I don't know his real name, but—Buttercup was—" Sakura stammered, a little flushed.

"Buttercup?" he asked, more interested than ever. "Who's Buttercup? Where's Buttercup?"

Shoulders slumped, Sakura let out a sigh, defeated. "As a matter of fact, I don't know either."

Kiyoshi then gave her an I-can-never-understand-how-you-teenagers-speak look and shook his head. "Come now, child. You must be hungry. But before that, I want you to meet someone first."

Sakura almost dragged herself towards Mr. Kiyoshi, just realizing how dead tired she was and in desperate need of sleep. _Buttercup, huh?_

She followed behind the old man, blissfully unaware that Buttercup's promise didn't have to wait too long.

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Tsuzuku

Names, dates and the places were my main problems, but I found a way to get around them, although it did not come easily. The letter o with the emphatic symbol on top may complicate some of the Japanese words, but for uniformity's sake, I will not add –u, as usually done by English translators, and will single-mindedly retain o, regardless of the pronunciation. And, you will notice that since Sakura doesn't know how to speak Japanese, she's calling everyone with Mr. and stuff, implying that she is speaking in English. As for the Japanese, adding -san is part of their language (as we all know) and would mean therefore that the dialogue is in Japanese. This will help you to know when they are speaking in English, and when in Japanese. As for the places and the traditions, they are real and they exist, but I still have the tendency to twist a little of those to spark things up, so nothing's ever for sure in this story…

Reviews (you don't get tired of this, do you?) are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest), Constructive Criticisms, however, _are_ remembered, while Flames are challenged and provoked (actually, please flame me as I have nothing else better to do at the moment).

Don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


	2. Matrix Rejected

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How To Love A Prince

by Jianne

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather wild) imagination or are used fictitiously (for the sole purpose of entertainment—mine, that is) and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Cardcaptor Sakura characters (you know they do) and everything else (which pretty much is the story and nothing more) is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

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Dedication

To L of Death Note.

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Vocabulary

Kokyo – Imperial Palace

Kotaigo – Empress Dowager

Kotaishi – Crown Prince

Obaasan – Grandmother

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Juuust Before You Read

You won't be able to understand half the story if you ignore the Japanese words, believe me. As you read, try to scroll up to the Vocabulary List or something.

And for this chapter, warning: Information Overload. Do have a dose of mefenamic acid before reading.

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2Sho – Matrix Rejected

"_And they lived happily ever after. The End."_

"_Wow. I bet Cinderella and the Prince Charming had a beautiful baby girl and a handsome baby boy."_

"_I bet they did too."_

"_Hey, Grandpa, you're right again."_

"_About what?"_

"_You always tell me that everything's going to be fine in the end, right?"_

"_Right."_

"_So was Grandma your Cinderella, Grandpa?"_

"_Yes, she was. And she will always be."_

"_That's neat. Hey, do you think I'll end up with my Prince Charming too, Grandpa?"_

"_I'm sure you will, Sakura. I'm sure you will."_

--

Sai-kan, Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine

--

Sakura tried to steady herself, refusing to believe anything. She was tired, hungry and was not in the mood to play princess.

Which, as suggested by the presence of both the Emperor and the Empress, was to be taken literally.

When Mr. Kiyoshi first led them into the room, Sakura hadn't recognized them, since every time she'd happened to catch news about Japan in TV news, it has always been about the Prime Minister, or another discovery, or the latest technology—everything _but_ the Imperial Family. In fact, Sakura would even bet her life that most foreign kids her age don't even know they exist. Given other circumstances, she would've been amazed just by being in company with such prominent people, but there was nothing to be happy about with the news they brought.

"Sorry, but let me get this straight—No. Forget it. I don't want to." She vehemently shook her head and muttered. "This is just one of those lucid dreams I keep having…" She stared hard at the floor, desperately trying to reject the information that has been made known to her for the past hour.

"Miss Kinomoto," the soft voice of the dark-haired, elegant lady called to her. "Please unders—"

"Please call me Sakura, Empress Yelan." Sakura blankly said, absently fingering her lavender coat. Yelan was a little astonished, but smiled nonetheless. "Yes. Sakura dear, I can't say I can identify with what you're going through right now as I haven't experienced it, but please reconsider. Once I've had the privilege of meeting your grandfather, and I'm certain that you will concur with me when I say that he was a very respectable man. He wouldn't sign the agreement if he didn't think you were _the one_ for this." She reached for her husband's hand for support, and he nodded at her.

The memory of Grandpa Satoshi made Sakura flinch. _Not a dream after all._ She looked up at the imperial couple, looking formal as they had been for the last hour, but they gazed at her with kind eyes. They were a really handsome couple. The Emperor was brown-haired with dark grey eyes behind spectacles. Although seated, he was noticeably largely built, equipped with the air of authority and confidence that a man of his position would obviously require. His wife was nothing short of the attributes an empress would be expected of—beautiful, elegant and intelligent. Her lengthy dark hair was tied neatly to a bun, her fair complexion contrasted with her slim grey suit. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to organize her thoughts before trusting herself to speak once again.

Emperor Daichi noticed her hesitation, and he moved to encourage her. "You have several questions, I presume?" He felt his wife squeeze his hand gently, letting him know that she was more worried than she let herself appear to be.

Sakura nodded solemnly. _This has got to be the most formal conversation I have ever had in my entire life._ "I would like to understand well, so pardon me if I ask from the beginning." They motioned for her to go on. "Why me?" she asked simply.

The stern-looking Emperor gathered his thoughts for a moment, and finally responded. "I feel I am bound to start from the beginning as well. You see, your grandfather was once part of the imperial family, the younger brother of my father, in fact." He saw Sakura's eyes widen in disbelief but he continued. "However, he had several issues against some of the laws that directly apply to the family, and, when he finally couldn't take it anymore, he asked to be disowned. Understand that being renounced from the family connotes almost virtual erasure of the memories of both parties—your grandfather to start a new life away from the family, and us to perpetually forget that a Satoshi once lived among us. Photographs were burnt; no one was to talk about him; and worst of all, there was to be no communication between us. Until the death of the late Emperor, the latest news we had received about him was he had married a Japanese-American and founded a company."

Sakura frowned. "Then how was this agreement of matrimony, as you call it, arranged?" The Empress answered for her. "This is where it gets complicated. You see, the late Emperor and your grandfather had been very close, being the only children of their generation. So when the Emperor had been on his death bed, despite the scandal your grandfather has caused, he was sent for, and that was when the arrangement has come to pass."

Sakura leaned forward. "I'm sorry but I still don't understand. Surely Grandpa Satoshi wouldn't agree without adequate reason, right?" She knew their grandfather best, and sensibility always came before his other virtues. "I meant, even if his only brother—even the late Emperor—was dying, I'm positive that Grandpa wouldn't compromise something big as the life of someone to an obligation, considering that he had chosen to severe all ties with the family decades before."

"You are correct. It was by necessity that he has agreed with the marriage." Yelan let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. "Prior to the death of Emperor Kenichi, an accident had occurred, resulting to the death of the former Imperial Grandson, the supposed Crown Prince, our eldest son, Prince Shuichi." She took a deep breath and let her husband continue. "Following the order of succession, our second son, Prince Syaoran, has become the Crown Prince after I have ascended to the Imperial Throne. However, as powerful as the Imperial Family may seem, we are under the Imperial Household Council, headed by Prime Minister Hiroyuki. Succession is regulated by the Diet. And because Prince Syaoran did not undergo early childhood preparation as Prince Shuichi had, he isn't exactly under the best graces of the Council. "

"Having foreseen this, your grandfather had agreed to the only possible solution—Syaoran is to wed within the imperial family, as they had done in the old days to strengthen political ties; thus, your marriage was arranged right after the proclamation of the new crown prince." Emperor Daichi sat back, letting the young girl take all the information in.

Sakura felt panic rising up to her chest and all the history lessons she'd received from her grandfather flew out the window. "But, you must know that my mother was adopted, and therefore I am not of imperial descent! And another thing, didn't you say that disowning my grandfather mean that he wasn't already part of the family? Then why…" She trailed off, forcing herself to calm down.

The kind Empress reached over the table for her hand. "Sakura dear, for the Imperial Family, adoption, as long as done legally, will be honored. Although preserving the Imperial Blood is unquestionably recognized best, the adoption of Miss Nadeshiko is no issue to the Council. Also, this way, it would be legal that you two marry since you are not blood-related. As for your grandfather," she squeezed both her hands, "well, the renouncement was requested by your grandfather himself, and it left no other scar to the family, apart from, of course, the scandal."

_There must be some way out of this._ Sakura itched to inquire, but she knew it was going to be futile, not to mention immature to do so. She looked up to the Imperial Couple, and asked the only acceptable question left. "And what has Prince Syaoran said about this?"

Sakura was still considering and reflecting on possible loopholes that she didn't notice the sudden discomfort of the couple. "Well, of course, the Crown Prince knows his duties very well, and he is willing to go through it." The Emperor replied in an odd voice.

_What if refuse?_ Choking down the selfish response, "I see." was all Sakura could think of to say. The couple exchanged understanding looks, and calmly stood. "Very well then. We will leave now. Thank you for listening to us." Out of courtesy, Sakura stood as well and led them to the front door where their car was waiting. She bowed in what she hoped as appropriate to the guests.

After he had helped the empress get in, the Emperor turned to her. "If it's no trouble, the Empress Dowager would like to have a word with you tomorrow."

Sakura nodded stiffly. The large man, in a comforting gesture, patted the top of Sakura's head and offered a quick smile. Uneasily, Sakura lifted her eyes to silently thank him, only to discover that the Emperor's eyes weren't actually dark grey, but a familiar shade between brown and gold.

"We will be in contact for further information. Have a good night."

--

Fukiage Omiya Palace, Kokyo, Tokyo

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"Yes, I will marry her."

The oldest member of the Imperial Family, Kimiko-kotaigo, leaned back and cautiously watched the impassive face of the man before him. _Check._ "Are you certain, Syaoran-kotaishi?"

Something flickered in his amber eyes. "Hai."

"You haven't seen her for over twelve years. Are you truly certain?" _Check._

"Hai."

The old lady studied her grandson's eyes once again. _I know you're going to hate me for this._ "The papers are taken care of. Once her signature is given, you are wedded. You will come back from Spain and England just in time for the formalities of the wedding day, correct?"

Syaoran solemnly nodded. _Check._ "You're not really interested at all to know what she had become after all these years? What she looks like, even?" Kimiko slightly bowed her head, in case the extraordinarily perceptive prince sees through her façade.

"I'll save that for our marriage years, Kimiko-kotaigo," he replied in a strange voice.

When silence reigned over the room for a few minutes, Syaoran bowed and headed for the door.

"Tell me one thing, Syaoran," His grandmother's unusual tone of endearment stopped him in his tracks. "This marriage isn't about your duty anymore, is it?"

When he slightly turned, Kimiko once again caught a glimpse of his eyes, and she finally understood, even if he'd chosen not to reply. "With or without the arrangement, I intend to marry her," he gave her an amused sideways glance, "Obaasan."

_Checkmate._

--

Narita Airport Washington Hotel

--

"Princess Sakura, huh?" Sakura's disgusted tone bounded back from the transparent walls of the spacious bathroom. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous name, and at the absurdity of it all. She had been even sent a lovely kimono to wear to the meeting with the Grand Empress. _As if I'd wear that_, Sakura thought, and then decided to drown herself in the bathtub to wash the reality off.

Minutes later, Sakura's padded footsteps were heard through the TV room, back to the bathroom, down to the small kitchen and finally into the bedroom. Balancing the bags of junk food and chocolate bars she had confiscated from the refrigerator, she flopped down to her wide, soft bed which was covered with peach-colored beddings and white pillows that smelled of lavender.

She rubbed her eyes briskly. "Stupid contact lenses…" Sakura muttered, and reached over the bedside table for her far more comfortable black-rimmed eyeglasses. Touya had used to tease her about it all the time, saying that her eyeglasses must have been the transmitter of her normally unleashed nerdness. Although certainly unique, her green eyes have always had fell short of 20/20 vision, which both Touya and Sayuri had, for as long as Sakura could remember.

Sakura sighed. She wished she could tell her siblings what happened, but if she would find a way around the situation, she certainly didn't want them to get involved in her predicament. Yes, this Prince's parents were sure nice, but that wasn't enough to let this slide. After all, this was _her_ life they were talking about. _I'll find a solution even if it's the last thing I do_, she promised herself. _Someday, I'd look back to this day and I'd be laughing real hard. But first…_

Ignoring the stack of novels waiting to be reread, she opened a bag of Doritos with vengeance and flipped open her laptop. Her emerald eyes mirrored something akin to survival instincts. She shrugged off the pessimistic, nagging voice at the back of her mind and started her research. _Let's see who this Prince Syaoran is…_

When she successfully logged on to Google, she typed 'Crown Prince Syaoran of Japan', each letter pressed furiously. There was a hundred something search results, and if Sakura had to read each and every website about this Prince to be able to find something to justify her unleashed fury (as misplaced as it was) then so be it.

Sakura didn't have to look further, because the first result was a news update from the week before by the Imperial Household Agency, and was titled, 'Crown Prince Syaoran Welcomes Spain's Prince Lorenzo'. Grateful for the English translations, she clicked the link and waited for the site to load. Soon enough, a page from the official website of the Imperial Family came into view.

_February 26— His Royal Highness Prince of Asturias, Don Lorenzo de Ortiz y Deogracias arrived today, at 3:05 PM at the Tokyo International Airport (Haneda) and was welcomed by Crown Prince Syaoran. The invitation of the official visit had been given one year ago, but was only accepted this January due to conflicts with the schedules. Prince Lorenzo is to attend dinner hosted by Prime Minister Hiroyuki Kenji this evening, Imperial Audience with the Emperor and Empress tomorrow morning, and Court Luncheon by noon at the Imperial Palace._

A follow-up came after a table of a week's worth of schedule.

_Although pleased with the friendship of the two princes, survey says that supporters of both Royal Families are worried that the next generation of royalties is getting younger and younger. _"Because of the prestige of its bloodline, the Royal Family highly depends upon future marriages."_ Eriol Hiiragizawa, a Political Science instructor of Tokyo University, says, _"The continuance of the monarchs' existence is apparently dealing with natural difficulties at the present: the huge age gap between the two generations, and the adolescence of the successors. In result, the pressure of male birth and, possibly, early marriage is alarmingly increasing. The sooner one of these is resolved, the better."

_The late birthing trend, which reportedly has started after World War II, has long been plaguing the Imperial Family. _"But since the former doesn't seem possible with the consequences of age and mortality, Crown Prince Syaoran ought to find a bride soon," _adds Hiiragizawa._

Still shrugging off the niggling voice, which was getting louder by the second, Sakura didn't bother to think why the name Eriol Hiiragizawa had sounded familiar. She quickly scrolled down to updates of the official visit, now more distressed than ever because of the unwelcome mention of the marriage.

_February 27— Prince Felipe visited Tokyo University early this morning…_

_March 3— Crown Prince Syaoran escorted Prince Felipe to the Saitama Imperial Wild Duck Preserve and…_

Sakura scoffed. "Catching ducks now, are we?" she mumbled, when she caught sight of the last update which was dated that same day. After clicking the link, Sakura's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she read the first line.

_March 5— Prince Felipe spent his last day in Japan receiving on-the-field lectures from Crown Prince Syaoran on yabusame at the Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine in Kamakura..._

Her eyes widened at every sentence. "There is no freaking way…" she muttered as she rapidly jumped from one word to the next. Immediately, she clicked on the link of the homepage, then onto the family members, and finally to Prince Syaoran's very own profile.

Buttercup stared right back at her.

It took a few minutes for this information to sink in. Sakura pointedly looked at the medium-sized photo, wishing she was just mistaken, that he, very coincidentally, looked like _him_. After all, many Japanese teenagers dye their hair tan, right? The build of his body wasn't certainly unique. And those brown eyes have got to be contact lenses.

They have got to be.

It was only when she remembered the Emperor's striking features that this episode's defeat was acknowledged. By then, it was inevitable, even for Sakura's jovial disposition, to feel the growing desire to throw something somewhere. She looked at her laptop, then at her cell phone, even at the white, floral kimono, and finally she glared at the innocent wall. _No. Why am I working myself up when the wedding's not gonna be even happening? That's right. But the bet..._

The writer in Sakura began weaving a dark, _dark_ plot and the first stabs of fear began. _He can't make me marry him because of the bet. It's ridiculous. Everything's going to be just fine._ Because if there was one thing that Japanese heritage has passed onto Sakura, it would be the importance of the word of honor.

_We'll see tomorrow._

--

The Imperial Jet Plane

--

"What the bloody hell possessed you to _not,_ at the very least, look at her?"

Syaoran resisted the urge to block the voice with his headphones. Instead, he chose to watch the clouds passing through outside the window. "Think what you want to think Eriol, but this old chap's quite certain his bride would look nowhere near beastly," he imitated the thick British accent of his best friend.

Eriol smirked. "With the way you're smitten with the practically unknown girl, she could look as horrid as an ogre and you wouldn't even care a bit," he retorted. "Ah, Prince Syaoran. Full of surprises recently, aren't we?"

Crossing his arms, Syaoran raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?"

"This," the dark-haired guy reached inside Syaoran's bag and took out the digital camera of the girl they had bumped onto the day before, "is what I meant. So, what was that all about? Even Prince Lorenzo thought you had been queerly tolerant."

Syaoran shook his head and leaned back. "Oh that. She just reminded me of someone." He remembered her defiant, flushed face, and he allowed himself a small smile.

He wondered what Spunky could be doing right then.

--

Garden Hotel Narita

--

"Sakura."

Having heard the calm tone, Sakura tried to bow as deeply as she could. She heard soft, hurried steps followed by rasps of the sliding door behind her. When she straightened, Sakura realized that the servants have left and she was now alone with an elderly lady inspecting her closely. She tried hard not cringe, but she did anyway and she wasn't sure if it was because of her obviously rebellious outfit or the unblinking, almost amused scrutiny directed at her. She almost smiled at the memory of the shock she'd given the servants when she came down to the reserved hotel room. She was clad in a gothic princess-themed outfit—from her statement grey shirt ("My soul was removed to make room for all this sarcasm.") and red-striped leggings under a black skirt to her red Chucks and metallic accessories. Sakura would've dyed her hair black if she had the time, but she hadn't, and so settled for black-painted nails instead. It was the first time Sakura had truly regretted her lack of knowledge on applying make-up, so she'd simply left her face pale. Her hair fell limply on her shoulders, a few locks covering her forehead that reached just below her eyebrows.

_Anyhow, it won't matter when I've found a way out of this huge misunderstanding_, Sakura told herself with even more determination than before.

She had been able to research a bit about the life of the Japanese monarchy (after she raided the profile of the Crown Prince, that is), and was astonished to find out that, _among others_, they live in seclusion—not exactly isolation, but when compared to, say, the English Royal Family, they might have as well lived in a cave. They throw parties only for political and very rarely, social purposes and were never reported to go out and enjoy a normal day. Scandals were lethal because they were still considered as being descendants of gods. Even gender equality was not keenly observed, both under the household law and the family traditions. Daughters and sisters are disowned, though not unkindly, when they marry outside the family. Imagine that. Sakura, not to say that there was even a slight possibility, couldn't and wouldn't live her life under so many restrictions. Not to mention cameras.

She stiffened when she heard the same calm voice of the Empress Dowager. "Do sit down, dear." Sakura kneeled down opposite the lady, and appeared very interested at the teapot and the small cups between them.

"Would you like some tea?" More than eager to finish this awkward meeting, Sakura declined politely. Still not meeting the lady's eyes, she felt her shift position.

"I was going to offer coffee, but we don't really want you dozing off now, do we?" Sakura blinked repeatedly. _How did they know about that?_ "Or was it soda? No, I'm pretty sure it was coffee. With lots of cream, right?"

Sakura didn't know whether she should be offended or not. Her nightly ritual of coffee-drinking wasn't _that_ personal, but if they knew that, how much more information do they have about her? What about privacy laws?

"What about them?"

_Did I just say that out loud?_ Sakura's eyes widened. The older lady chuckled softly. "You sure did. So, which privacy law are we talking about?"

Sakura wanted to slam her head. She used to be able to control her thoughts from working their way to her mouth, but now, they just slipped off. It must be from the stress. Or the jet lag. Or both.

One look at the lady's twinkling eyes, Sakura knew she'd heard her mutterings again. She shut her eyes and mentally kicked herself.

"Sakura?"

She looked up.

"Relax. I don't bite."

An incredulous look passed Sakura's face. Then she smiled. "Sorry." She then watched the Dowager flatting her stretched legs against the floor. Gone was the stiff-spined position Sakura had found her in moments ago. "Try doing this. Your legs must be stiff right now."

Sakura exhaled. She followed suit, and became more at ease.

"Comfortable now? All right. Let's get to business. The English-translated papers will be delivered to you tomorrow. In the meantime, I'd like to hear what you have to say."

Sakura nodded. "Grand Empress, I wish to—" She was interrupted by a hoarse chuckle.

"Sakura," the old lady said, "I don't want to be reminded of my old age by formalities such as that. As you may have known by now, I can speak and understand American English. You can even call me Grandma Kimiko when we're alone. Besides, don't you think it looks rather strange for a girl of that…" she coughed, "er, _costume_ to be suddenly speaking strictly?"

Sakura looked down on her clothes and couldn't help but grin. "Okay."

Kimiko smiled at the improvement. So she'd been right the first time. The young girl had been so uncomfortable in her own clothes that Kimiko couldn't help but wonder if it was an image scheme. _Interesting._ "Now, where were we? I think you want to clarify this _huge misunderstanding_?" She smiled as Sakura blushed. "Let's hear it."

"Well, to be honest, I don't really agree to this arranged marriage." Sakura frankly said. "I don't mean to sound snobbish or anything, but I've planned my life, you know, normally."

Kimiko nodded understandingly. "And may I hear what these normal plans are?"

Sakura looked thoughtful. "Well, for one, I plan to finish college, and have a successful career. Before I turn 30, I hope that a certain _normal_ man I have already met in the _normal_ way, would propose to me, and we'd get married at a small, intimate church. We'd travel the world for our month-long honeymoon and come back only when threatened with the loss of our jobs," Sakura almost grinned at the potential development of her love story with her brother's friend, Yukito. "We'd also have kids, three at most, and we would try our best to be good parents. My brother and sister would also be there, and our friends too."

_She has already someone in mind? _Kimiko frowned. _This could complicate things. _"Quite the romantic you are, Sakura." She watched Sakura blush again. "I'm sorry to have to remind you this, but what about your Grandfather's approval on the matter?"

This was what left Sakura sleepless the night before and she'd come up with only a half-decent conclusion. "Well, I've thought about it, and I realized the things that Grandpa did for me to prepare me for this, like not encouraging me to go out with boys, among others. Even so, I think he wouldn't agree to this if he'd known I wouldn't be happy about the marriage."

"Do you really think so?" Kimiko asked quietly. "Then why do you think he kept this a secret from you?"

To this question Sakura couldn't find an answer. Frustrated, she tried another way. "I don't know, but more importantly, is this even legal? I mean, I'm just turning 17, and aren't these kinds of things declared obsolete?" She couldn't stop babbling, "And what did the Empress mean about me being _the one_? What is this, Matrix Rejected or something?"

The Dowager looked at her sympathetically. "I understand what you're feeling, but I have to get some facts straight. Here in Japan, the groom must be at least 18 years old, while the bride must be 16 years of age or older. However, since you are not a Japanese citizen, we must abide by the laws of the state of Illinois. To obtain a marriage license for your age in Chicago, both parents' consents are required." Sakura's relief stuck in her throat. Her parents have been long gone, and if she was right, the decision will then be up to her legal guardian, who was Grandpa Satoshi, who was now _also_ gone, which means…

"_Satoshi also informed me that I am to be your guardian for your stay here in Japan," _Mr. Kiyoshi had said_, "I hope you understand that I wish only to carry on what your grandfather's last wishes are and therefore I would only want the best for you."_

"And here I was, wondering why Grandpa had to appoint someone other than Touya as my guardian." Sakura's eyes stung, because that would also mean that the reason why she had been allowed to go to Japan was because of this selfish arrangement, and not because Grandpa Satoshi had supported her dream to study at Tokyo University.

"This doesn't make anything better, but I feel that you should know the consequences of any kind of refusal." At this Sakura's blood ran cold. "Your family's company has been put up as indemnity to the full realization of the arrangement. The specifics are declared in the papers."

Sakura was trying hard not to break down, so she almost jumped when she felt a hand warm her cold ones. "I know you must be feeling bad about the situation, and you probably think you were—well, _used_ by your own grandfather."

Sakura wanted to deny the cruel idea, but it was exactly what she was feeling right then.

"The…the marriage…" Sakura gulped, "it can wait. I mean, it's impossible that even the date was arranged. So if I could just…at least finish college…then…" her voice trailed off.

"No, the date wasn't specified, but a clause there states 'at the time of desperate need, as judged by the current Emperor then'. Look, Sakura. I, myself, wouldn't involve such a young lady as you if I could help it. The initial plan was to inform you once you turn 16, and Satoshi and I have tried to hold it as long as possible. But now, we _are_ desperate. This marriage would save the family."

"Because it would assure the Council that the family line would continue, right?"

Kimiko nodded solemnly as she sadly watched the child-like innocence fade away from Sakura's eyes.

"'Everything will be fine.' That's what Satoshi had told me before he went to America. I'm confident he would've told you this as well."

Sakura lowered her head. "Actually, it's the only thing that's been keeping me on my feet since yesterday—the thought that things will somehow work out in the end. But I think this won't. Unless the marriage doesn't happen, things won't be all right."

"Well, we don't exactly know that, do we?" Sakura looked up and met the twinkling eyes of Grand Empress Kimiko. "Truthfully, I don't support forced matrimonies. I'd promised myself that my marriage was the last of its kind. However, as fate would have it, it wasn't meant to be. But that doesn't mean I can't meddle around now, does it?" She leaned back.

"Sakura, what do you think of divorce?"

**Tsuzuku**

* * *

It was horrid—dreadful. I was going daft with having nothing to write with, as I couldn't possibly scribble my update on a mere piece of parchment now, could I? Positively splendid. Why, I was on the verge of clobbering my computer when—

Okay. That was my lame Eriol-influenced British attempt of giving my excuse of the late update. And because it _is_ lame, I provide its translation in plain English: 'I couldn't update because my PC broke down.' So, yeah.

Anyhow, I was rather disappointed when I read your reviews, not because of the reason you're thinking now, but because no one actually bothered to _flame_ me. Really. I was getting all pumped up for any, _any_ (I'm desperate, can you tell?) verbal/written battle when I realized the most provoking response I had was a 'Please update soon.'

But it was good to know that I have some very observant readers. More than one commented about the color of Sakura's eyes from the first chapter, which I had described as aquamarine. Well, this chapter should settle that. Although Sakura uses transparent contact lenses, they somehow lighten (or mess with, whichever you prefer) the color of her eyes. I prefer the nerdy glasses, if you ask me.

Seriously though, thanks to those who did bother to review. Because of that, I hereby declare the wedding to be one chapter away. Yup. Deal with the next update, and you shall be rewarded with the wedding soon.

Copy-paste-ing what I've said last chapter…

Reviews (you don't get tired of this, do you?) are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest), Constructive Criticisms, however, are remembered, while Flames are challenged and provoked (actually, please flame me as I have nothing else better to do at the moment).

Don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


	3. Little Lily

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How To Love A Prince

by Jianne

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather wild) imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Cardcaptor Sakura characters and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

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Dedication

To L of Death Note.

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**Vocabulary**

Furisode – long-sleeved kimono that young, unmarried women wear

Sensei - Teacher

Dozo. – Please come in.

Naishinno – Princess

Anata wa yoi no dekita. – You're ready.

Shinpai arimasen – There's no need to worry.

Ja – Well then

Shitsurei shimasu. – Excuse me.

Seiza – the formal way of sitting

Sumimasen. – Pardon me.

Kotaishihi denka – Crown Princess

Sou desu ka? – Is that right?

Machi nasai yo. – Please wait.

Ne? – Okay?

Nande? – What is it?

Dakara – That is why…

Arigato. – Thank you.

Yorokonde. – My pleasure.

Ano… - Umm…

Goshimpai naku. – Don't worry.

Watashi wa Nippon jin desu. – I'm Japanese.

Gomen nasai. – I'm sorry.

Daijoubu. – It's okay.

Sore ja. – Well then.

O-tanjobi omedeto gozaimasu! – Happy birthday!

Kaibutsu – Monster

Omedeto! – Congratulations!

Yokata ne? – Isn't that great?

Kogo – Empress

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Juuust Before You Read

In the Vocabulary part, I translate Japanese phrases and sentences as they are used in the dialogues. Japanese words are romanized loosely. I was doing sudoku while writing, so no promises of perfection. Flame if you must. Or if you're bored.

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3Sho – Little Lily

"_Happy happy birthday! Open it, Sakura!"_

"_Oh Sayuri, you didn't have to."_

"_What are you saying? The sixteenth birthday is always important. So of course I had to give you a gift. More than that, I want to. So hurry and open it."_

"_What's thi—oh. Oh wow. It's beautiful! Where'd you get this?"_

"_At this lovely small jewelry shop near my new college dorm. It's really popular because everything in there is unique. They make only one of every product. That means no one else has a necklace exactly like this."_

"_That's pretty cool."_

"_Yup. Now, look at the pendant."_

"_A flower…?"_

"_A cherry blossom, to be exact."_

"_It's really pretty."_

"_You know what? That's your name in Japanese, Sa-ku-ra."_

"_Sakura means cherry blossom? Really? How'd you know?"_

"_I looked it up. Don't tell Grampa."_

"_Ahaha…I won't, but he'll know anyway. Oh, Yuri, thank you!"_

"_You really like it? That's good, then. I'd been wondering what I should get you for your birthday, and—guess what— it was Yuki who had come up with the idea."_

"_Y-yukito?"_

"_I bumped into him when I went to New Jersey last week. For the university tour, remember?"_

"_Yeah. So, um, what did he say?"_

"_Well, I told him I wanted to give you something special for your sixteenth birthday, so he tipped me about that nice shop I told you about, and he said they might have something from their pink silver collection that would go with your name."_

"_He…Yukito said that?"_

"_My, my, Kura, still haven't gotten over your crush on Yuki?"_

"…_did you discover what Sayuri meant too?"_

"_You know that your evasion never works on me, Kura, don't you?"_

"_Yeah, well…"_

"_Yes, Yuki looked healthy, the same. He said he was in Princeton because he was asking for copies of his school records, which sounds suspicious, but then it's Yuki we're talking about. No, he wasn't with Touya. And no, there wasn't a girl within five meter radius of him. He said he came alone."_

"_I wasn't—"_

"_Going to deny you were thinking of those questions? Of course you weren't."_

"_Because my denial doesn't work on you either. Right."_

"_Anyway, I did find out that my name means little lily. I was out of time so that's pretty much the only thing I learned."_

"_Little lily…so Mom had intended to name us after her favorite flowers, huh?"_

"_I guess..."_

"…"

"_Do you think—"_

"_No, Touya doesn't sound like a flower to me."_

"_It's that telepathic thing again."_

"_You're just way too transparent, Kura."_

"_How—ugh, why do I even bother..."_

"_Good girl."_

"_Hey! Don't talk as if you're way older. I'm just younger by a year."_

"_I know, but it doesn't feel like that at all."_

"…_you wanna help me put this on?"_

"_Sure. Here."_

"_Whoa. It's really gorgeous. Hey, was there a lily version of this in that store?"_

"_I inquired about that too, but they said it has been already sold. A year too late, I think."_

"_Aww, and I was thinking of buying you a matching necklace for your birthday too!"_

"_That's okay. You can give me your John Woo DVD collection instead."_

"_Oh…I never thought you—well, if you want it…"_

"_Really…?"_

"_Yeah, sure. If it's you then…"_

"_Hahaha! You know I wouldn't watch those mega-action movies even at gunpoint! Gosh, you're all teary-eyed, Sakura!"_

"_Why, you…And I was getting ready to part with my most beloved DVDs!"_

"_Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help myself…"_

"_Ahaha…But seriously, thank you so much for this, Yuri You're the best."_

"_Hey, anything for my little sister."_

--

Rockefeller College, Princeton University, New Jersey

--

_Can't we do something about it?_

It was just one of the several unanswered questions that have been running around her head all through the three weeks of Sakura's absence**. **She had been trying to come up with answers aside from the 'we couldn't have done anything' excuse she'd first tried to convince herself of. But so far, there were no satisfying answers. There wasn't anyone she knew whom she could find them with. Not even Touya.

"I got Sakura a new digital camera. She said she lost the one Gramps had given as her grad present. What did you get her, Sayuri?"

If Sayuri didn't know any better, she'd say Touya was in denial. Maybe he really was. Because while she had been looking for answers, Touya had simply given up. He acted as if Grampa was still alive…as if Sakura was just back home in Chicago, still in high school… He acted as if everything was okay.

Sayuri opened the door to her dormitory room. "Will our gifts reach her on time?" she asked instead. Another one of her questions. She heard a little shuffling before Touya replied. "Yeah. I made sure they do. Her birthday's not until next week anyway." Then he chuckled. "Hey, Sayu, remember last year? When I talked Sakura into watching that horror movie…"

When in fact everything's not.

Ignoring the skulking awkward silence, Sayuri reached for a framed photograph of herself with her brother and sister. It was a shot out of Touya's college graduation and they were all grinning at each other. Slowly, she covered Sakura's laughing face with a finger. The picture instantly drained of warmth and happiness. "I miss my little sister," she finally whispered as she carefully placed the frame back to her study desk.

Touya grunted. "I'm just happy she didn't hold a grudge against us." Breathing deeply, Sayuri silently agreed. Sakura never expressed her sadness or anger if she could help it. It wasn't that she preferred keeping her emotions to herself; dark feelings simply never lasted more than a day in her. But this time, Sayuri never thought she'd wish for Sakura to get enraged, to shout in fury, to just…just get angry. But she did right then. If only to make up for _her_ anger.

"_I understand why you had to keep it from me. It's okay. Yes, I'm fine, really."_

Because for Sayuri it wasn't fair. Sakura didn't deserve this. She had so many dreams, so many more stories to tell… Catching up on her thoughts, Sayuri realized she felt as if Sakura had already died, and for a moment she hated herself for that.

"So," Touya's voice was hesitant, "Are you going to the wedding?"

She recognized one of her own questions. But it was a little different. Because she'd decided already on this one. "No," she replied. _I can't._ "I don't want to see Sakura's face when she…" Sayuri closed her eyes and imagined what Sakura would look like—would _feel_ like on her wedding day. Suddenly desperation settled in. "Oh Touya. We can't just do this to her. It's so unfair."

It was as if Touya had been expecting this breakdown. "I know," Touya gravely replied, "I'm willing to give the company up, but remember what Grandpa's letters said?"

_Have faith, Touya, Sayuri._

Sayuri sighed. "Obviously, he's up to something again." She sat on the corner of her bed and tried to sort out her thoughts. After a while, she voiced yet again a question to her older brother. "Touya, do you think that…could Grandpa have hoped Sakura would somehow, someway, fall in love with the Prince during their engagement?"

His dry laugh sounded raspy over the phone. "If it were possible to fall in love without actually _meeting_, then maybe. The Prince is off to Spain and England for the entire engagement period." _So Touya's been keeping a careful watch on the palace._ "And it's not like the engagement would even last a year. For all we know, they could be married right now."

_That's possible._ Sayuri mulled over the subject she took on Asian Studies. In Japan, no matter how special or meaningful the wedding ceremonies are, a couple is considered married the moment they finalize their civil marriage registration at a ward or a city office. So technically, if Sakura had already signed the nuptial agreement, she was already Japan's Crown Princess. Then again, a royal marriage like this would require an official meeting with the Imperial Household Council first. Only after the meeting can they let Sakura settle the papers.

The thought of Sakura being bound to strangers pushed Sayuri to take a chance and ask more. "Will we be allowed to see her? How about Sakura's college plans?" The silence of her usually boisterous brother unnerved her so much that she groaned out loud. "C'mon, Touya. Are we really okay with Sakura alone there?"

"We promised Grandpa, Sayuri," he replied, as if that explained everything.

_Well, is it worth keeping now?_ She almost asked. That was the question she had been thinking of most frequently, which was always followed by _what would Mom and Dad have done if they were here?_ Sayuri, who had always felt like a mother to both her brother and sister, never hesitated to do anything for their happiness. And if this word of honor was in the way, then—

Correctly interpreting her silence as an unspoken rebellion, Touya finally lost his temper. "Dammit, Sayuri! Do you think I wanted this? Sakura's my little sister too, dammit!" He exhaled shakily. After a while, he said in a grim, suffocated tone, "We will _not_ interfere."

She sighed. "Touya," Sayuri patiently said, "I love Grampa and all, please don't misunderstand, but Sakura shouldn't have to suffer this. Everybody should decide for their own happiness and—"

"I didn't want to tell you this," Touya interrupted in a low voice, "but all of our family shares were transferred to Sakura's name, so even if I wanted to let go of the company, I wouldn't have the right to. Now, do you honestly think Sakura would live happily knowing that she was the reason of the company's breakdown? Really, everything's up to her decision now, and I think," he inhaled deeply, "Sakura's already decided."

Sayuri slumped down to her bed in defeat. Sakura never changed her mind about anything. Often it was good, because her determination helped her reached her goals. But sometimes, her stubbornness and occasional prejudices did her no good. And this time she was just being stubborn. Sayuri just knew they weren't going to have a hard time convincing her into the marriage. Aside from her competitiveness, her sister had a Superman Complex. Anytime, anywhere, she'd come running to practically anyone who asks for help. Be it home works, love quarrels or fund-raising projects, Sakura has done it all. _Except maybe helping a royal family line to continue by being the mother of the next heir_, Sayuri thought wryly, _except I'm not sure if they'd phrase it like that._

"Hey…"

"I understand." But she really didn't. At least not everything. For one, why was it that Sakura was the one forced into this marriage? Was it because Sayuri already had a boyfriend? _No, that can't be it._ She nibbled her lip in thought. The agreement was twelve years old. Was everything simply random? She doubted that. _So what was Grampa thinking when he agreed to this?_

"Sayu, I can hear you thinking." Touya said lightly. "Look, don't worry. I've sent one of our trusted people from the company to look out for Sakura until the wedding. In the meantime, let's just, well, have faith." He cleared his throat. "Okay?"

It was the answer, she knew. They couldn't do anything more than that. But somehow, Sayuri couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something missing. As if there _was_ something she could do. As if she was involved deeper than she would have dared to imagine.

--

Honden, Main Hall, Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine

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Iwao Kiyoshi, a man who dedicated his life to the Shinto way of life, the local shrine priest and the legal guardian of the nation's future Crown Princess, was kneeling down to the floor, his head bowed.

"Satoshi, you bastard," he murmured, all the while maintaining his serene position, "you have better been on the right state of mind when you wrote that contract. Because I don't think I was when I signed it." He stood up slowly, careful to support his back with a hand. He headed to the Haiden, the oratory hall in front of the Hall, and gazed down at the entire shrine field. Chuckling dryly, he shook his head. "Already dead, and still giving me headaches. You've always been so troublesome, Satoshi." He sighed, anxious of what the future may bring.

--

Side Room, Hikari Room, The Imperial Hotel, Tokyo

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"It's almost time, Sakura. Are you ready?"

She took a deep breath, and then nodded. "Wish me luck, Princess Tomoyo," Sakura said, flashing her a wide grin. She and the seventeen-year old lady had met only three weeks ago, but a close friendship has already been formed between them. Because the engagement was to be finalized discreetly, it was the Princess whom Empress Kimiko had asked to supervise Sakura's Japanese language and etiquette lessons. The past days have been exhausting for Sakura, but she'd enjoyed them nonetheless, her will to learn all that she could of her long-missed country overpowering even her physical limitations. Her teacher was of course pleased with the exceptional progress the future Crown Princess was promising. When asked how, Sakura would always give the credit of her will to learn to the influence of her grandfather. Of course, there were other educational things she could have pointed out, _anime_ for example, but it didn't seem proper to have them discover the rather extraordinary teaching strategies of Princess Tomoyo. She could share this kind of things only to her _sensei_, and that strengthened their friendship more than anything.

The dark-haired princess smiled encouragingly. "You won't need any luck. I just know the whole Council will approve of you the moment you walk into that room. They won't be blatant about it, of course." She absently readjusted Sakura's butterfly obi and neatly tucked a little of the excess portion of the cloth. "So don't panic if they bomber you with questions. Actually, the more questions they ask, the better. That's because most of them, especially those from outside the palace, are terribly frank, well, except for the Prime Minister, I believe." Slowly, she took a step back and gave Sakura a once-over with a thoughtful look. "Hiroyuki-san is actually a nice, friendly man, so that's one person less to worry about…" Her voice trailed off as she retreated a step more. "Something's strange," she murmured incoherently.

More than confused, Sakura looked down at the tapestry-weaved russet obi elegantly wrapped around her soft pink-colored furisode. There wasn't anything wrong with her extended sleeves, and, she slightly raised her foot, neither was there with the free-styled hem of her kimono. _Is it my hair then?_ Sakura asked herself, a hand reaching out to her high hair knot. She felt somewhat nostalgic as she sensed the Princess' sharp eyes inspect her. It could almost equal the scrutiny the Grand Empress Dowager had given her just a month ago…

"_Besides, don't you think it looks rather strange for a girl of that…" the Grand Empress had coughed, "er, _costume_ to be suddenly speaking strictly?"_

Sakura almost smiled. She'd dressed rebelliously in the hopes that they would realize she wasn't fit to be a member of the Imperial Family. But the elderly Empress hadn't been the least bit fazed. If anything, Sakura thought she'd seemed amused.

She didn't know what possessed her to think that she could even convince anyone with a mere outfit and a couple of arguments. It was nothing compared to what Empress Kimiko had done to persuade _her_ into the marriage.

"_Truthfully, I don't support forced matrimonies. I promised myself that my marriage was the last of its kind. However, as fate would have it, it wasn't meant to be. But that doesn't mean I can't meddle around now, does it? Sakura, what do you think of divorce?"_

_Confused, Sakura had echoed the last word to make sure she'd heard correctly. The Empress confirmed it with an inscrutable expression. Sakura had been more puzzled than perplexed._

"_Empress, we both know that the threat to the existence of the company is more than enough to make me bound to the Imperial Family for the rest of my life. So why are you doing this?"_

_The older lady had looked pleased, as if Sakura had passed some sort of test. "That, is why I am offering this. I don't want you _bound_ to us, Sakura, nor will I let you. How do you think can I face Satoshi if I don't do this?" She'd sighed as she took out a piece of parchment paper. "One year. After that, I will personally take care of the divorce papers." For a time she'd seemed lost in thought, but when she finally did speak, there had been a wistful tone in her voice. "To be honest, the larger reason why I feel obliged to do this, Sakura, is because I think I can never live with myself if I get in the way of love." _

"_This is…" Sakura's breath had hitched at the thought of Yukito, but she'd shaken her head. "But Grandma Kimiko, how can _I_ live with _myself_ knowing I would cause grief to your family and, very possibly, to the nation as well?"_

_The older lady had simply shaken her head. "You can, Sakura. You will be sacrificing an entire year to complete strangers. This is the best and only thing that _anyone_ can ever do to help us, short of giving up their own lives. And I'm eternally grateful for you." _

"Ah. It's you."

Sakura blinked twice as she focused her vision from the blurred spot over Tomoyo's shoulder to the speaker herself. "I'm sorry?"

Princess Tomoyo offered a gentle smile. "I think it's great that you're not nervous. That's normal, actually, after all those ridiculous hours of lessons. However, you don't seem that confident either, Sakura. " She watched Sakura uneasily look away. "Excuse me, I seem to be prying…"

"No, no." Sakura fiddled with her fingers. "It's just that I'm…"

"_Of course, there are certain conditions that this new arrangement will require in view of a smooth and an acceptable separation. I will be sending a draft of our contract to your room later."_

"…homesick," she finished with a wobbly smile.

"Well, you're free to make a couple of calls before we present you in there." Tomoyo offered, pointing at the door to the enormous Hikari Room.

But Sakura just shook her head. "It's okay." Puzzled, Tomoyo gazed at her and was about to ask when a knock rapped in softly to the door.

"Dozo." Tomoyo called out.

A petite old-aged lady in red kimono came in and bowed to Tomoyo. "Everything is ready, Tomoyo-naishinno," she said in a low voice. Then she looked at Sakura and nodded, before returning to the social hall.

Sakura stared at the door in awe. "Wow. She's so graceful. Is everybody in the palace really like that?"

Princess Tomoyo just smiled. "That was Takatsukasa-san. She's the Takatsukasa family head of the Fujiwara Clan. She isn't a royal family member but…well, you know your history."

"The Fujiwara Clan…They have always been with the Imperial Family, haven't they?" Sakura looked over to Tomoyo who was still inspecting her.

"Yes, they have." She clapped her hands together and smiled. "Anata wa yoi no dekita, Sakura." She raised an eyebrow, asking if Sakura understood what she said.

"Hai," Sakura replied, beaming. "Shinpai arimasen, Tomoyo-naishinno."

The Princess nodded, pleased. "Of course there isn't. Ja, let me introduce you in there. Wait for my signal." She headed to the door and disappeared behind it.

Sakura inhaled deeply. _This is it. No turning back now._ She relaxed her muscles and did air piano fingers, trying to think if there was something she'd forgotten. _A formal bow is about 30 degrees. Say '_shitsurei shimasu_' before sitting. The correct position of _seiza_ is…_

The more she ran over her lessons, the louder that mental nagging voice was becoming. _The Imperial Household Council is composed of ten members. There's Prime Minister Hiroyuki Kenji. Grandma Kimiko and Empress Yelan from the family… House of Representatives' Speaker…_

"Sakura?" Tomoyo called from the opened door. She gestured to her and gave an encouraging smile.

Sakura closed her eyes for a moment and then breathed deeply. _It must have been unimportant_, she thought, shrugging off the restless feeling. Nearing the door, Sakura was embraced by Princess Tomoyo for a second as she whispered, "Make sure this will be the last time I'll be calling you without a title, Sakura." Meeting the Princess' eyes, Sakura nodded. _I'm gonna rock._

"_Okay. I'll do it, Grandma Kimiko. I'll help the Imperial Family. I will do everything I can."_

--

Porcelain Room, Palacio Real, Spain

--

"It's her what?"

Having just entered, Eriol gave a startled glance at the frowning Crown Prince who was hearing the daily reports from his secretary.

"Sumimasen, Kotaishi-sama, but I was under the impression of you being well-informed of the Kotaishihi denka-sama's profile. Takatsuka—"

At the mention of the title, Syaoran relaxed a bit and sighed in relief. "Hai. Hai. You may go now." He swiveled around to meet the pasted Cheshire grin of his cousin with a faint smile of his own. "Heard that? Kotaishihi denka."

"Oh. I didn't tell you? Otousama called me this morning and _fully_ informed me what happened in the assembly." Masashi Hiiragizawa was the President of the House of Councilors and was therefore a member of the Imperial Household Council. Eriol had gotten first-hand information about the meeting, although it had taken quite a while to convince his father to give such private details. _But this is going to be worth it._ "I believe everybody had taken quite a liking into the Kotaishihi denka-sama. So it looks like the wedding tomorrow is on." His grin widened even more, daring the Prince to ask for information.

"Sou…desu ka?"

Eriol watched him struggle for a few minutes. He'd always been amused with the twisted, almost-romantic side of Syaoran. The Prince had obstinately refused to be informed of who the Crown Princess was.

"_Do you really expect me to know of my fiancée this way? As if she were a criminal under investigation? I refuse to be given the opportunity to form prejudices and one-sided images. I _will_ know her personally."_

_But why shouldn't I be allowed to read the reports too?_ Eriol sighed. When Syaoran decided he'd be the one to judge his wife-to-be, he'd also banned Eriol from reading the profiles and accounts. He sighed, feigning fatigue. "Ja, I'm going ahead. We've got a long flight back to Japan later." He then got ready to leave.

"Machi nasai yo."

Smirking, Eriol put his hands on his pockets and turned to the Crown Prince who was resting his head on his forearms on the table, looking deeply troubled. _Swallow that pride and just ask, ne?_ "Nande?"

"It's her birthday today."

Eriol rolled his eyes. "Dakara—"

"Save it, Hiiragizawa." He lifted his head and looked at the glossy cream ceiling. "Even if I buy a gift today, it won't reach her on time. What if I ask Shiefa-oneesama to—but that wouldn't count as coming from me…"

Eriol couldn't help but smile genuinely at the Prince. He was so deep in love with a perfect stranger. _That's not right. They have already met before. But then, doesn't twelve years change all that?_

All of a sudden, Prince Syaoran stood and looked at him in the eye. "Eriol. What should I do?"

_So I guess not, huh?_ As far as he knew, it was the first time he –or anyone– was called so informally by the Crown Prince to ask for help. "How about that wedding gift you were saving for her? The one you'd bought from America?" Eriol watched Syaoran's eyes widen a little. "Then you could just buy her a new wedding gift before we go to the airport later." By the end of his sentence, Syaoran was already dialing his phone to call his chief aide back in the palace.

"If that is all…" Meaning to go outside, Eriol shook his head, unable to wipe a pleased smile off his face. He was about to close the door when the Prince's deep voice stopped him.

"Hey, Eriol. Arigato."

He bowed. "Yorokonde, Kotaishi-sama."

--

Imperial Floor, The Imperial Hotel

--

"Yes?"

Sakura opened the door of her suite to find a smiling bellboy with a four stylishly-wrapped boxes of different sizes in his arms. His smile faltered when he realized she was a foreigner. "Ano…" he cleared his throat, "This is gifts. From—"

"Ah." Sakura blinked and then offered a smile. "Goshimpai naku. Watashi wa Nippon jin desu."

The bellboy looked relieved. Then, as if remembering himself, he bowed to apologize, but the effect was ruined when the gifts came tumbling down from his arms. "G-gomen nasai!"

Sakura kneeled down and helped him. "Daijoubu, daijoubu." She caught sight of the handwritten card on the rectangular package. "That's—"

_Hey Saku!_

"Yuri!" she almost shrieked.

_Happy happy birthday! I'm sorry I couldn't give this to you personally, so I hope this reached you in time. Call me when you receive this, okay? Love you!_

"It's my birthday?" Sakura turned to the bellboy. "It's my birthday!"

He grinned at her. "Sore ja, o-tanjobi omedeto gozaimasu!" Then he placed the gifts beside the door and bowed. Sakura bowed back. "Arigato gozaimasu." She closed the door silently and headed to her bed. _So this is what I was forgetting…_

There she opened Sayuri's gift, careful not to tear the blue wrapper. "Whoa!" She lovingly stroked the DVD copy of the movie directed by John Woo. She had been unable to watch the movie on the big screen because she'd been so busy this past month…

Unwilling to dwell on that, Sakura proceeded to open the next package. It was a Canon EOS 350D Digital SLR Camera from Touya. _What do I do with a camera this fancy?_ Sakura shrugged in answer to her question. Then she flipped open the small grey card attached to the box.

_Happy birthday, _kaijuu_!_

Sakura frowned. Kaijuu_? Didn't that mean…_

_That's monster in Japanese, right? Or is it _kaibutsu_? Well, whatever. You behave there okay? No biting heads off of people. I'll see you soon._

Instead of feeling annoyed, Sakura felt her tears welling up. "Soon means 'on your wedding', right?" _Which is tomorrow…which is soon…which is too soon…_

Sakura shook her head. _It's okay. It's okay._ She reached out to the next box which had the hotel's logo on it. There was a medium-sized card taped in front.

_Omedeto, Sakura!_

_I heard they all approved of you. Yokata ne? I'm sorry if I wasn't there after the meeting. Yelan-kogo asked for my help in the church wedding preparations, so I had to go earlier than expected. This is my sorry and congratulations gift, so please enjoy it! You have to hurry and open it, since it won't wait for you. Please get some rest. You have to look beautiful tomorrow, ne?_

_Tomoyo_

Slumping against the headrest, Sakura closed her eyes and muttered to herself. "Yes, Sakura. Your wedding is tomorrow. Believe it or not." Remembering Tomoyo's warning, she untied the bow around the gift and opened it.

It was an opulently concocted three-piece assortment of fine chocolate. "Thank you, Tomoyo," she said out loud. Chocolates have always been her comfort food. And it went unsaid that comfort was what she needed in this difficult time.

Sakura was on her third piece, the Marc de Champagne, when she remembered there was another gift she hadn't opened yet. It was a thin square box, and the more she looked at the expensive-looking cobalt wrapper, the more she narrowed her eyes at it.

_Why do I have to be afraid of a package? _Suspicious, she unwrapped it and slowly opened it a crack for a peek. _Huh?_ Sakura fully opened it to take a closer look. It was a pink silver necklace with a small, lavender lily for a pendant. _Now why does this look familiar…_

She took her eyes off the jewelry and noticed something embroidered on its velvet bed.

_To my little lily…_

Sakura shuddered. _What a stalker-like thing to say_, she thought, overlooking the Imperial Family Crest embedded behind the cover.

--

Imperial Jet Plane

--

…_lily. _Syaoran closed the plain white card and attached it to his wedding gift. He straightened the corner wrinkles for a few more minutes, before deeming it presentable. _I hope she likes this better than the birthday gift._ Pleased with himself, he finally relaxed against the couch. He'd gotten tired choosing the best ring for his wife. But he'd never felt better. Two hours of looking at jewelries is nothing. _Because only the best would suffice for the Crown Princess._

Closing his eyes, he smiled and whispered the lovely name for the hundredth time that day.

"Crown Princess Sayuri."

**Tsuzuku**

* * *

I managed to update on Sakura's birthday. Whew. Never thought I'd make it.

So. To you who added my name and/or my story to your favorites and/or alerts and/or to you who bothered to read and/or review, thanks. A lot. No, really. I mean, I'm totally grateful. Seriously. No, wait—you don't understand. I'm _really_ thankful. Do I look like I'm joking? This is my I'm-dead-serious face, you idiot! Ugh, who am I kidding? Fine. I know. Whatever. No, I didn't say that. Of course not! Why you little—

(Don't ask.)

Moving on. I have yet to receive my first flame, unfortunately. I thought I almost had, though. When I'd received **midnightoasis**' rev, I had to reread the entire thing, trying to understand if it was a flame or not. To my disappointment, it wasn't. Honestly, that was sooo mean of you, midnightoasis. You should spend your lunch time feeling guilt, not by trying to come up with ways to not go back to work. You crushed my hopes, my dreams…(cue song: Go the Distance) but I will live. I'll show you. Someday, somehow…

(I said don't ask.)

On a saner note, I'd like to answer several questions publicly, in case someone else had been also wondering about the same things. **midnightoasis** asks if the betrothal was required to be within the family and they were also this far removed, would the adoption and avoidance of blood relation be necessary? The advantages of the marriage are: (one) Sakura is legally part of the family as a grandchild of Satoshi, and (two) Japan's law doesn't allow marriage between blood relatives, which, of course, Syaoran and Sakura aren't, since Nadeshiko was adopted. The adoption and avoidance of blood relation were part of the situation, so, to the story, yes, they were necessary. To put it in perspective, the Imperial Family gets to have the best of both worlds in Sakura—by getting the approval of the Council, they get to be politically stronger _and_ prolong the Imperial line at the same time. No health issues either for that matter.

And **nEeLLoC**? Trust me, that _is_ your memory failing you. I didn't change the summary, nor (I think) will I. Because if I did, it would turn to one of those cliché-ish boy-meets-girl-in-the-most-bizarre-way-possible summaries. I did try, but I couldn't get it to work for me. My summary for me is fine, and since it did catch eyes (which is pretty much what it should do), it is rather effective. Oh, and I have read the manhwa, and I found it cool as well, but this isn't based on Goong _or_ Princess Hours. Japan still has this Imperial Family stuff going on for them, and I simply decided to play with the information. Thanks, though, for wishing me luck with the flame thing. I know I need it.

Now I'm having second thoughts about the pace of the story. More than one of you commented that it's going too fast, but I'd already promised that the wedding's gonna be in the next chapter…and I really want to get to the fun part of Sakura and Syaoran's married lives. So, I'm sticking to it, but I'll try to slow things down _after_ the wedding. **SOSNoel**, 'Nemo impune lacessit' means 'No one dare attack me with impunity'. It's the cool motto of Scotland (though I'm not a Scot) mentioned in The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe.

The wedding…the wedding…

Reviews (you don't get tired of this, do you?) are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest), Constructive Criticisms, however, are remembered, while Flames are challenged and provoked (actually, please flame me as I have nothing else better to do at the moment).

Don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


	4. What'll She Look Like

* * *

**How To Love A Prince**

by Jianne

* * *

**Disclaimer**

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather twisted) imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Card Captor Sakura characters and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

* * *

**Dedication**

* * *

To Gennie, who just mourned the first day of not being able to assault a person without fear of jail anymore. O-tanjoubi omedeto!

* * *

**Vocabulary**

Kotaishihi denka – Crown Princess

Daijoubu desu yo? – Are you feeling alright?

Daijoubu desu. – I'm fine.

Kunaicho Chokan – Grand Steward

Dozo. – Come in.

Shitsurei shimasu. – Excuse me.

Ohayo gozaimashita. – A pleasant morning to you.

Okage sama de. – I'm feeling well.

Kareshii – Boyfriend

Dakara shinpai arimasen. – So don't be bothered anymore.

Otsukaresama deshita, minna-san! – Good job everyone!

Kotaishi – Crown Prince

* * *

**Juuust Before You Read**

I translate Japanese words, phrases and sentences as they are used in the dialogues. Japanese words are romanized loosely, so disregard that part from earlier chapters where I said I won't be adding –u to words that are usually anglicized with one. So…yeah. Itadakimasu!

* * *

**4Sho – What'll She Look Like  
**

"…_Oniisama! Yakusoku yakusoku desu ne?"_

"…"

"_Dakara…doushite…"_

"…"

"…"

"_Ahh!—ouch!"_

"_Dare da?"_

"_H-hello?"_

"_Anata dare?"_

"_Um…I—"_

"_Ikinasai."_

"_W-wait. I got lost. I d-don't know how to get—are…are you crying?"_

"_Ikinasai! Ikinasai yo!"_

"_Oww…"_

"…"

"_Hey you! You shouldn't push people around! And you shouldn't yell either! My grandpa says that's bad!"_

"_Iki…ikinasai."_

"…"

"…"

"_You talk funny. I don't understand you. Can't you speak English?"_

"…"

"_I guess you can't. But I don't know how to speak funny too."_

"…"

"…"

"_Daijoubu ka?"_

"_Huh?"_

"…"

"…_hey, you wanna know a secret? Last week, my Daddy and my Mommy became angels."_

"…"

"_Grandpa even said Daddy and Mommy can see me from way up there. Maybe they're right there! Between those two clouds…"_

"…"

"_But you know, I cried when they told me I won't see Daddy and Mommy again. I cried because they didn't even say goodbye. Nobody should say goodbye before leaving, right?"_

"…"

"_How about you? Why did you cry?"_

"…"

"_You don't understand me? Umm…You. Cry?"_

"_Naku?"_

"_Naku? What's naku?"_

"…"

"_Hey, what's that picture?"_

"…_Oniisama."_

"_This one?"_

"_..."_

"_Is that your Dad? What happened to him?"_

"…"

"_He didn't say goodbye to you too?"_

"…"

"_Did he become an angel and went up there too?"_

"…_sora…?"_

"_Yes, there. Up in heaven."_

"…"

"_Well, I know my Daddy and Mommy are happy and laughing and smiling there. Maybe your Daddy is happy and laughing and smiling too. So we shouldn't be sad, right?"_

"…"

"_And you know what else? My brother said that they're always watching over us. Hey, maybe they're looking at us right now! Maybe they're even waving at us! Let's wave back!"_

"…"

"_Wave! C'mon! There! Wave higher!"_

"…"

"_Daddy! Mommy! How are you there? We're all fine here so don't worry, okay? I love you! Now your turn."_

"…"

"_C'mon! You can do it!"_

"_O-oniisama…"_

"_Your daddy wouldn't hear you if you don't shout. Louder!"_

"_O-oniisama! H-Hayaku kotchi ikinasai yo, ne?"_

"_Feels good, huh?"_

"_Arigato."_

"_Hey! I know that! It means 'thank you' right? Yeah, that nice lady said that too. Ah-ree-guh-tow?"_

"_Arigato?"_

"_Ah-ree-guh-to."_

"_Hai."_

"_Hai. Ahaha. Do you feel better now?"_

"…"

"_There. You should smile more, okay?"_

"_Ano…anata no o-namae wa nan desu ka?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Watashi wa Syaoran to moshimasu. Omae wa?"_

"…_I can't understand you."_

"…_Syao-ran. Syaoran."_

"_Ohhh. You're Syao-ran? Your name is Syao-ran?"_

"_Hai."_

"_Me, I'm Sayuri. Sa-yu-ri."_

"_Sa-yu-ri? Sayuri-san?"_

"_No no. Sa-yu-ri. Just Sayuri."_

"_Sayuri."_

"_Hai. Ahaha."_

"_Hai."_

"_Hey look, it's snowing!"_

"…_yuki."_

"_Hmm? Is that snow in funny talking?"_

"…"

"_It's kinda hard to understand when you talk funny. I bet you think I talk funny too huh?"_

"_Faa-ni?"_

"_Yup. But you know me now and I know you now. Me, Sayuri. You, Syao-ran."_

"…_Syaoran. Sayuri."_

"_Hai! And we're super friends from now on, 'kay?"_

--

Suwanochaya, East Gardens, Kokyo

--

He didn't know why, but for some reason, that conversation had always been vivid in his mind. He also remembered every detail of that moment. The dark sky, with a couple of angry-looking cloud puffs. The smell of the garden's flowers. The long one-sided conversation she'd kept, trying to get more words out of him. The snow-damped grass they had eventually slept on. And the different kind of loneliness he'd felt when he awoke to an empty side and a very worried Imperial Guard.

As he walked around the normally tourist-crowded garden, Syaoran couldn't help but feel bad again. His insisting on personally knowing the seventeen-year old version of the Sayuri he knew was only partly because of prejudice tendencies. In fact, the reason isn't that _at all_. It was just an excuse.

_Why do I remember every little thing about that day…everything, but _her_?_

The thing is, Syaoran couldn't remember Sayuri's exact features. It would always be a hazy, almost blurred vision of a girl. He didn't know when or how it even happened, because ever since that day, he would regularly replay those minutes with her. Whenever he'd look up at the sky, he'd see her hand pointing upwards, waving energetically. Before he'd go to sleep, he would picture her beside him, holding his hand, and talking on and on 'til he fell asleep. Whenever he's in the main Imperial Palace, he's gotten the habit of walking around the gardens every morning, even reaching the point where he'd disguise and try to blend in with the crowd just so he wouldn't have to miss an opportunity whenever tourists visit.

_Did I simply grow out of it?_ He asked himself. _Yes, that must have been it. _Syaoran had always felt that he had to prove something, but when he'd enrolled into Gakushuin High School at the age of 13, the pressure heightened to a soaring level. Aside from the then Grand Steward relinquishing his position, the only other member of the Imperial Family legitimate for the throne, Prince Haruo, who was Syaoran's uncle, had developed an illness and died. As he left two very young daughters to his wife, Princess Momoe, the entire Japan had mourned over the death for a month.

And that had essentially been Syapran's full-forced shove to growing up. The Imperial Household Agency had been stricter on him than ever, packed schedules day after day had greeted him, and it was only a matter of months when personal time had been as scarce as Japan's natural resources. It had been at this point where he stopped looking at the sky, could only sleep in exhaustion at night and started going to advanced morning personal classes. Looking back now, high school seemed like a blur to Syaoran. The only thing he'd written on his diary during those three years was the day of the entrance ceremony (which he hadn't even attended because he was inaugurated as the Crown Prince on the same day). There were no funny anecdotes or experiences to tell of, and even if there were, there hadn't been anyone he would've wanted to tell them to.

But College had been a little better. Instead of going up to Gakushuin University, where most, or rather, all of his older immediate family members had graduated from, he'd enrolled into Tokyo University's Faculty of Economics two years ago. There he'd gotten reunited with the only person he could seriously consider calling a friend—Eriol Hiiragizawa.

Eriol and the Crown Prince had gotten acquainted when they were still in Gakushuin Elementary. They'd first met through the annual athletic meet, where they had represented their respective levels in the 100 meter dash. But whenever he'd ask Eriol about this, he would just shake his head and smile that mysterious smile of his, which has yet to fail in getting into Syaoran's nerves. Though it had been a short acquaintance, both knew it wasn't the last time they'd be seeing each other.

It had taken more or less a decade for their second meeting (and they both agreed on this). It was at the university's entrance ceremony, where Syaoran had to lead his batch's pledge of loyalty. And even after all those years, he would've recognized that barely hidden curious evil glint approaching him. They'd greeted and conversed like they had been together for the past years and since there hadn't been much to catch up on with the (published) life of the Crown Prince, Eriol had done most of the talking. Needless to say, it had been amusing for one, and annoying for the other, but afterwards Syaoran had felt good—happy even—though he'd never be the one to admit it.

Fortunately, the Imperial Household Agency had approved and supported the companionship between the young men, because of Eriol's father or PR purposes Syaoran didn't know which, but in the end he was glad they did. After a year in Tokyo University, the Agency's Grand Steward sought to improve the Prince's publicity even further, so they had him study abroad for a few semesters, and that meant a little bit of free time and freedom for the normally hectic crown prince life. It was in this period where his hazy thoughts of Sayuri had reoccurred, and, as relieved as Syaoran had been, confusion and guilt then seeped in. He'd promised to himself he wouldn't forget her, but he did. And it had been eating his insides whenever he caught the sight of the folder of reports about her just inside his office drawer. And this was why he'd decided he'd remember Sayuri not from her measly pictures taken from afar, but he'd remember her personally, even if it would be in front of the altar.

_There used to be a large stone here, and a stone path leading to there… _Syaoran looked for the partially concealed place he'd gone to that day he learned of his brother's death. After a few attempts, he sat down on a flat rock to rest. _It's not here anymore. Has everything been changed?_

Right then, something inside Syaoran stirred in worry. _What if _she'd_ changed? What if she doesn't remember? What if sh—_ He stopped himself before he thought too much. After all, it wasn't good to be having these thoughts just hours before the church wedding ceremony—hours before he could finally look at her, remember her, and let go of the guilt he'd been willingly fostering for years.

--

Dressing Room, Left Section, St. Mary's Cathedral

--

"Why can't anyone tell me why there should be two separate wedding ceremonies, why I still haven't seen my brother or my sister and, most importantly, why the headlines for today are _these?_"

Still mumbling to herself, Sakura glared at the unrightfully accused newspapers on the table. They ranged from '_Royal Wedding of the Century'_ (Yomiuri Shimbun)to_ 'First Open Imperial Wedding'_ (Mainichi Shimbun) to the worst:_ 'The Ideal Love Story—From Childhood Friends to Marriage' _(Asahi Shimbun).

Pacing back and forth, she tried to calm herself down, but her mind won't stop. _This doesn't make sense at all. Even when _the_ John Lennon got married to Yoko Ono, a lot of racist comments still got around… On the other hand, everybody calls the…the practically _shotgun_ wedding of a literally unknown _gaijin_ to the Crown Prince utterly romantic. And what is this stuff about childhood friends? What in the world is going on?_

"Kotaishihi denka-sama."

_And where could Touya and Sayuri be? They can't _cannot_ be here, right? Their plane should've landed by now. And they should be on their way. But traffic! Yes, they're getting delayed by traffic. They say Tokyo traffic is the worst. Yes, yes, that should be it._

"Kotaishihi denka-sama?"

_But knowing Touya and his temper, I won't be surprised if he'd be blowing his head off right now, arguing with a man who couldn't even understand half of what he'd be saying…Ahaha…_

"Kotaishihi denka-sama?"

Sakura bumped into someone with a start. Her mind slowly focused on a long-haired lady dressed in a formal black suit, looking a bit surprised herself. "Daijoubu desu yo, Kotaishihi denka-sama?"

She blinked as the older woman refused to meet her eyes. "Uhh…yeah. Yes. I mean _hai. Daijoubu desu, Mihara-san._" The young member of the Imperial Household Agency still appeared uncertain, so Sakura quickly changed the subject. "Um… so, what do you think of my gown?" she asked with an engaging smile.

_I knew I shouldn't have read these newspapers to her._ "Eto…" Mihara nervously tucked a short hair strand behind her ear. Everyone she knew _knew_ the clothing line of which the dress was a part was, objectively, the best. _But how am I supposed to answer?_ She looked down at her black-on-black combination of a suit uniform. _The Agency never did really encourage its members' sense of fashion… _She paused._ Wait. Am I thinking too much on this? This is just American culture, right?_ She inwardly sighed."Excuse her servant's ignorance Kotaishihi denka-sama, but I had been just informed that Her Highness's brother has just arri—"

"Touya? Touya's here? Thank God. Where is he? And how about Sayuri?"

At the confused look of the princess, the twenty two-year old lady appeared even more hesitant. "Her servant has been advised that it is better for Her Highness to raise her questions with the Kunaicho Chokan when he comes to meet with her."

"The _Grand Steward_?"

"Hai, Kotaishihi denka-sama." She waited for a moment, and when it seemed like she was no longer needed, she bowed deeply and headed to the door.

"Chiharu-san?"

She froze immediately and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard the Crown Princess call out her first name. _I must have heard wrong,_ she concluded when found no one; still, she turned around just to make sure. The Princess was looking at her anxiously.

"Did Sayuri…was—was Touya alone?"

She gazed at the Crown Princess—very beautiful in her white multi-tiered wedding gown with hints of pale cherry blossoms following a swirl around the outermost layer, white gloves reaching to her elbows, and her hair half-pinned up while the rest flowed down onto her back in loose curls. She looked perfect, but her face lacked that bloom, the radiance every bride was told to possess during the most important day of her life. _The Fairy Tale Princess, but not the Fairy Tale Wedding,_ Chiharu thought, and she wondered if Her Highness was aware that she _knew_. Being part of the inner Crown Prince's Household Branch of the IHA, she learned both stories—the real, arranged marriage one, and the made-up childhood friends bit.

To put it simply, it was a public strategy that the Grand Steward had devised with the support of the Council, as well as the Imperial Family. It can't be helped, Mihara supposed, since the latest addition to the family grew up in a foreign country, hadn't known how to speak Japanese, still didn't know how to read Japanese and didn't even look like Japanese—with those green eyes and all. So they webbed up a story that was almost entirely contrary to the real one.

And that was only the beginning. They purposefully announced the wedding just this morning in fear of rousing arguments and rallies against the matrimony. To avoid even worse predicaments, they also had to prevent further issues of sexism, at the least, and eyebrow-raisings at Sakura Kinomoto's background. And so the general solution: writers. Or to be more precise, newspaper journalists. They made sure that every newspaper in Japan published the story this morning, and on the front page, no less. Versions were allowed, but all of them contained the same information—who Sakura Kinomoto really was (from her Grandfather to almost being a Princeton student), and her false love story with the Crown Prince.

A couple of knocks at the door woke the two from their depressed state.

"Dozo," came out a wobbly reply from Sakura after the introduction was made by one of the chamberlains. She inhaled deeply. _It's about time._

In came the tall figure of the authority behind the Imperial Family's affairs. With piercing eyes and a steady stance, he stepped in and bowed gallantly. "Shitsurei shimasu, Kotaishihi denka-sama."

Rising from her chair, she nodded at her chamberlains and at Mihara who all seemed relieved to be dismissed, before greeting the Grand Steward.

"Yue-san." She gestured for him to sit down, as she did.

He straightened and complied, all the while smiling—a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Ohayo gozaimashita, Kotaishihi denka-sama. How have you been faring?"

"Okage sama de, arigato gozaimashita, Yue-san." Sakura paused, and decided to speed up the conversation. "Please excuse my impatience, but I believe there are a lot of things we have to talk about."

"Ah, yes." Sakura thought Yue's eyes darkened for a second, but it was gone after a blink. She couldn't help but shudder. This person certainly gave her the chills, but she brushed this impression away. After all, there are more important things to concentrate on. Like this role she suddenly found herself in.

--

Dressing Room, Right Section, St. Mary's Cathedral

--

"Yes, I just heard. Pity, I think. Oh, and you look splendid, by the way."

Princess Tomoyo sighed, setting a cup of tea on its saucer. "You know, when I asked for an audience, I expected the sympathy to be convincing, at the very least." She raised an eyebrow at his display of what should be an apologetic face. "Especially from someone who calls himself my kareshii."

Eriol hid his growing smile behind his teacup. "Very cute, Tomoyo-san." He would never label himself something as immature as a boyfriend. _At least not aloud._ He then grinned at the thought. _Kareshii, ne?_

Catching the look on Eriol's face, Tomoyo rolled her eyes at him, before putting on a serious expression. "But to be fair, I think I understand why she couldn't come. It's going to be hard for her to watch her sister be taken away like that. And to be honest, I still feel guilty about the whole thing." She stood and walked over to a life-sized mirror.

"At first I thought, it's fine. She's going to be just some lucky girl who would have these bizarre fantasies of being under the spotlight. I had even smiled at the thought of how was she going to be sorely disappointed of how we live our boring, imperial lives. But when I got to meet her…" Tomoyo's voice trailed off. Eriol followed and wrapped his arms around her. "I doubt if anything I say at this moment would be helpful, but let's just have faith in them. Bad things don't happen to good people without good reason. And if the Kotaishihi denka-sama is what you say she is, then I imagine this'll turn out to be for the better, ne? Dakara," he kissed the top of her head, "shinpai arimasen."

"Is it me or am I just in the wrong room at the wrong place on the wrong day?" a sudden voice cut through the sentimental air.

The now untangled couple turned to Syaoran who had just emerged from the dressing room. "Oniisama! Don't shock us like that!" Tomoyo almost shrieked, a hand over her heart.

"No, I'm probably just at the wrong wedding." The groom deadpanned to himself.

Eriol chuckled and put an arm around his girlfriend just to annoy Syaoran. "Don't mind him, Tomoyo-san. He's been at his wits' end all morning, worrying about every little thing from the music to the cake..." he received identical dark glares from the cousins, "which, you know, is very normal." _That is, if he were the bride and if he didn't have an entire unit in charge,_ he wanted to add but was life-preserving enough not to.

"Ah, that's right. I was asked to be the Maid of Honor in the place of Kotaishihi denka-sama's oneesan. Is that all right with you, Oniisama?" Tomoyo reached over and helped him button his cuffs. "Hmm? Of course, and I'm sorry for the trouble." He frowned, his forehead creasing with worry.

The Princess shook her head at her cousin's formality and smiled. "We've already arranged it all out. Everyone from the procession has been informed of the slight changes. For the bridal song, Ito-sensei should be on the piano stand, all set and ready. However, the song is going to be only for the entrance of Kotaishihi denka-sama and the vow-exchanging ceremony. For the prelude, I believe it's still the traditional Canon in D." She then took the jacket of his three-quarter-length black morning suit and held it up for him to shrug into. "Arigato gozaimasu, Tomoyo-naishinno," he said as he slightly bowed his head.

"Silly. You know I take pleasure in meddling with your life. Now, I know this ceremony was modified to be short and quick, but please enjoy yourself, okay?" She grinned at her cousin, and was surprised when she received a pat on her head.

A little embarrassed by his careless gesture, the Crown Prince coughed and excused himself, leaving the dumbfounded couple alone again. Tomoyo stared at Eriol, who was smirking as if he knew something she didn't. And if she knew him, there _was_ something. "What was that?" she asked.

The fact that she reverted to English could only mean she was serious. "Uh, cold feet?" Eriol answered feebly. Arms crossed, the Princess raised an eyebrow. "You do know I'm getting to the bottom of this, don't you? So pray tell, _chap_."

_No sign yet,_ Eriol observed, _so it should be pretty harmless for now._ "Well, I suppose that really was just a case of the pre-wedding flu. He's been having a splendid temper for days no—" His voice cut itself off as he watched Tomoyo take a seat and sip her already cold tea. "Yes, yes, do go on," she encouraged, a peculiar calmness in her voice now evident.

_There it is,_ Eriol sighed. _The manic gleam in her eye._ "Have I mentioned how cute your death stance is?" He sat beside the princess and pulled a slim digital camera from his double-breasted black suit.

Her tea abandoned once again, Tomoyo silently looked on as he turned the device on and clicked a few buttons. "It happened about a month ago, before we'd gone to the conferences." He handed it over.

Princess Tomoyo, more confused than ever, scanned through some of the scenery pictures. "Is this Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine? What does this have to do wi—"

Eriol looked at her pause and scrutinize a photo with a robed priest and a brown-haired girl smiling together. "The Prince had been positively curious from the time when we met that girl. I did ask him about it, and he merely said she stroke a chord in him of someone. I presumed he was referring to the Crown Princess. What do you think?"

Tomoyo couldn't take her eyes off the camera. "When did you say this was?"

"The day before we flew to Spain. Why?"

Finally, she looked up at Eriol with an unreadable expression. "You mean they have already met each other? And he doesn't know?"

"They? Who?" Eriol's back straightened. "Tomoyo, you're not making any sense."

A slow smile broke into her face. "Yes, that's right. You both didn't know what Sakura looks like. This is hilarious. And to think, he has been holding out from the gathered information and pictures of his bride…"

"By jove, Tomoyo! Can you tell me what you've been mumbling about? Who's Sakura? And what about Sayuri?"

The Princess was torn between incredulity and excitement. "My goodness, you don't even know the name? I cannot believe this! Sakura is the name of the bride _and_ the Crown Princess of Japan!"

"Sakura?" Eriol asked blankly. "You mean Sayuri."

"Sayuri? No, it's Sakura, Eriol. Who's this Sayuri, by the way?"

Smiling, Eriol rested his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders. "You must be really exhausted with all the preparations for the wedding. Tomoyo, her name is Sayuri. I would know, by the number of scores the Crown Prince has mentioned her the previous weeks. You must've misheard." He reasoned calmly.

A tic got into the Princess' smile. "Is that so? Hmm. You'd think _I_ would know, considering the fact that I've been with the actual name owner for the past month." She shrugged. "Perhaps she was just too polite to correct me, yes?"

Eriol stared back at her. And after a moment's pause, "Then who the bloody hell was he talking about?"

--

Front Hall, St. Mary's Cathedral

--

"Live at St. Mary's Cathedral, this is Sasaki Rika, reporting for NTV News." She smiled for a few seconds more before motioning to her cameraman to cut off the video. "Otsukaresama deshita, minna-san!" she called to her four-man team and they gave her exhausted smiles in return. Rika sighed. _It sure is a field day for the media lot,_ she thought as she watched her colleagues try to get an interview out of the newly arrived Prime Minister. She was glad that she hadn't been assigned to interviews or that would have been more stressful. All she had to do was keep an eye on the first western imperial wedding ceremony and count off the persons who attended it.

_Even they came._ She nodded at a former associate who was now working at CNN. Several foreign news groups sent their own teams as well. _It looks like the world's current focus is on us._ _After all, the Kotaishi-sama is the first to wed from his generation of royalties. _She headed to the reserved seating area for media persons, which was a little way off to the right and back of the cathedral.

"Sasaki-san!"

Rika waved at her boss, Jinkama Reiko, one of the producers of her news shows on NTV. "Jin-san! I didn't know you were coming." She gestured at the seat beside her while the middle-aged lady simply shrugged. "I didn't know I was too, up until I caught myself watching these wolves on live television, devouring what small meat these fraudulent mortals could offer." She offered a resigned sigh as she sat down. "And I realized I am the leader of our pack, and therefore should be here. You know, duty and all that jazz." Rika didn't know if she'd wince and agree or just smile politely. She has always had that impression on people. Rika then settled for the safe reaction. "And I suppose you're mourning for the media today?" she glanced at her boss's black attire.

Her boss simply smiled at the young newscaster's naïveté. _Ah, youth. How fast have you flown from my grasp. _"Yes, yes I am. And so will everyone, once they've heard the truth behind this. Or the rumors, which do not stray far from the truth, I've heard." Rika noticed the secretive smile on her boss's face, but decided to stay silent.

"In any case, our real job is about to start."

They both stood up as did everybody. The time has come.

--

Dressing Room, Left Section, St. Mary's Cathedral

--

"So…"

"Hmm?"

Touya cleared his throat. He knew he had never been a people person. But this was his little sister he was talking to. His little sister. Except that in just a few minutes she wasn't going to be _just _his little sister anymore.

"Sakura?"

She turned to him with a fixed grin on her face, her white gown moving with her. "Feeling schmaltzy all of a sudden, big brother?" she poked him at the side. "Don't worry, I know you're dying to get rid of your annoying little sisters. One down and one more to go, huh?" She smirked at him.

He could only look away and try to ignore the charade that Sakura was playing. But he had to say it. He had to at least try. If not for her, then for himself.

"There's still time, you know. I have the car waiting at the back. If you want to, we can—" He caught the look at Sakura's face. "What?"

Frowning, Sakura put her hands on her hips. "Who are you and what have you done to my big brother? Because seriously? You're not doing a great job as an impostor." Then she smiled. "Don't you know that he never wears his hair like that?" She stared at his moussed hair. "And he even told me once that he'd die first before he wears a black tie." Touya's hand consciously flew to his Windsor tie. "If you had done your homework, you should have also known that he always has this big whoever-that-boy-is frown whenever I dress up for something." Sakura reached out to his brother's face. "And he would never, ever tell me to back out on something I've already decided on. Because he always tells me that a Kinomoto is a Kinomoto because of integrity." She buried her face into his chest and said through a muffled voice, "And I will always be a Kinomoto, Touya. You know that."

Touya sighed. _I'd never forgive myself for this._ He pulled her away to arm's length. _Please be okay, okay?_ "If only you were half as good in Calculus as you are in making speeches…" He smirked at her sister's childish pout until he took something from his pocket and gave it to her. "From Sayuri."

Sakura nodded, and placed it on the desk. She turned back to Touya and said, "I know Sayuri would've wanted to do this but I guess my stupid big brother will do." She smiled as Touya rolled his eyes and carefully lowered her white, transparent veil to her face.

"Love ya, kid."

"Yeah, me too."

--

Main Hall, St. Mary's Cathedral

--

"_It will take the Agency at most six months to smoothen out all the issues, so please bear with us a little longer, Kotaishihi denka-sama."_

"_So you're saying I have to pretend even with them?"_

"_Hai. Even with the Imperial Family themselves."_

Sakura unconsciously tightened her gloved fist. _So this is what Sayuri was talking about._ She can almost hear her sister's voice scolding her that she was, yet again, minding herself too much with other people's business. But she honestly couldn't help it. She'd already agreed to get involved with this mess. _Stop it, Sakura. You can't turn back now. _

"Are you ready?"

Sakura's head snapped up. Princess Tomoyo was looking at her with very worried eyes that unexpected words managed to slip out of her mouth somehow. "I don't think I'll ever be." She lowered her eyes. Then the Grand Steward's words suddenly rang through her head.

"_Even with the Imperial Family themselves."_

He felt Touya nudge her arm, discreetly asking her if she _was_ ready. "But I'm fine. And of course I'm ready. Really I am. It's just…just the nerves talking." She pasted a smile on her face to top it all off, trying not to remember that other thing the Grand Steward had told her.

"_And if something unexpected happens during the ceremony, I trust you will remember that the show must go on, as you Americans say." _

_Us Americans, huh?_

Tomoyo blinked as she noticed the bride's face go blank. "Sakura…" But she just laughed when she asked her if everything was alright. _Okay…_ She even shot her a reassuring beam before she took her first step through the door.

_I can't believe I started this stupid charade with Tomoyo. _Inhaling deeply, Sakura engrossed herself into the anxiety mantra she'd developed over the years. _It's alright, it's alright. No matter what happens after today, everything will still be the same. Everything's going to be fine. _

Sakura stopped doing air piano fingers with her right hand. _No. Of course everything's going to be different. _If she was going to go through this, it's better if she get in touch with reality starting now. _But that doesn't mean everything's _not_ going to be fine, right?_

_Right?_

The silence of her usually confident inner pep squad startled her more than the first lyrics of the bride's processional song.

_What'll she look like when she opens her eyes  
And sees what she wants to see  
Instead of this cold mirror's lies  
And all the pieces complete  
She says with a sign  
I think I'm ready_

Syaoran couldn't believe he was feeling like this. Furthermore, he couldn't believe someone could even make him feel like this. It was like he was back to his last year in high school, anxious to graduate and go to college. Or that time when he was given his first horse.

Okay, maybe those were nothing compared to this. After all, it was his wedding day. In any case, he couldn't wait for this lovely lady to reach his side and raise her head so he could finally look at her.

_What'll she sound like when she opens her mouth  
And all the phrases sound right  
As they fall out  
And she says yes and she's not  
Scared of the sound  
Well she says she's ready_

The next thing Sakura knew, she was in front of the altar, in front of the Prince and in front of everybody. Her head still slightly bowed, she watched as her groom took her hand from Touya's and circled it around his elbow.

She could almost swear she felt his brother's hand tremble.

_Will she be soft, will she be strong  
Will she be ready to be wrong  
Will she move too fast or wait too long  
Will she look me in the eyes_

_What'll she look like_

Touya nearly hadn't wanted to let go of Sakura's hand. But after they'd bowed to each other, he'd observed how the Prince had looked at his sister. His eyes told him the last thing Touya ever expected. _Impossible. He couldn't be…_

_What'll she feel like when she opens her heart  
And finds that there just might be  
A small missing part  
And whether with or without me  
She has to start getting ready_

The melody of the chorus hovered around them ever so silently as the minister proceeded on to his short message. Meanwhile, everyone in the cathedral could feel the heavy tension in the air, the anticipation of who Japan's new Crown Princess is already replaced by silent questions of why. Everything else—the extravagant adornments, the high-profile attendees—didn't matter to them.

Both the bride and groom felt it as well, but they took it in differently. Sakura absorbed every percent of it, all of it was really directed at her anyway. She was just grateful that her back was turned to them, and that no one could see her fiddling her fingers with the hem of her gown.

Syaoran, of course, because he'd already grown accustomed to this, concentrated on the fact that his bride looked nothing short of his expectations. In fact, he never thought she'd grow to be this wonderful. And what's more, beneath her filmy veil, she was already looking familiar. Strongly familiar.

If only she'd look up at him.

_What'll she look like when she opens her eyes  
Will she see just what I see  
Will it be a surprise  
To find that she hasn't changed,  
Her eyes are just a little bit wider now  
She's getting ready_

"And now our bride and groom will light the center candle symbolizing the unifying power of love, joining together all the members of their family. And before we witness their personally written vows, I invite everyone to read from the First Corinthians, that wonderful book about love."

Sakura's eyes widened. _Wait, wait, wait. Vows? _She blinked. _I mean, vows. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. _She tried to remember the words she'd carefully written last night. _I can do that._ Suddenly her hands felt warm and she stared at those big hands that suddenly covered hers. _Already? _She took a deep breath, inwardly reciting her newly amended mantra. _It's okay, it's okay. Although everything would be different after this, everything will still be fine. Okay, Sakura? Okay._

She almost gulped when the minister nodded at her.

"In the presence of everyone who are in here…" Sakura paused, suddenly realizing that she could count the attendees she knew by more than their faces with one hand, "I take you to be my partner, trusting what I already know of you and respecting what I have yet to." She cringed at how…careful she must have sounded. "I eagerly anticipate the chance to learn, to grow and to laugh together throughout the seasons that we'll have." _Like friends, right?_ "And with this ring, I wed you."

_Will she be soft, will she be strong  
Will she be ready to be wrong  
Will she move too fast or wait too long  
Oh will she look me in the eyes_

Staring at his bride's _still_ bowed head while she slipped the golden ring to his finger, Syaoran couldn't help but be disheartened a bit. He didn't want to think too largely of her casualness, but…

"Now let's hear from the groom."

_We have the rest of our lifetime to make up for it. _He squeezed her hands before reciting the poem he'd come across the day he'd bought her birthday gift.

"I was never struck that hour,  
With love so sudden and so sweet,  
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower,  
And stole my heart away complete.  
Are flowers winter's choice?  
Is love's bed always snow?  
She seemed to hear my silent voice  
Not love's appeals to know.  
I never saw so sweet a face  
As that I stood before.  
My heart has left its dwelling place  
And can return no more."

Then he simply declared, "I vow to love you." He slipped the diamond-centered ring to her finger. "If this ring symbolizes anything at all, it will be for my gratitude in marrying me." He earnestly said, all the while trying to catch her eyes.

Sakura fought the shiver running down her spine. _How could he say all those things with a straight face? To vow as if he'd meant to keep them?_ If his hold on her hands were the smallest bit looser, she would've snatched them back. But it wasn't, and Sakura felt her hands get sweaty for what was about to come.

The minister cleared his throat, apparently the only person sensing the growing strain between the two. "Now that you have signified your love by the exchange of vows and rings, I pronounce you husband and wife. These were two, now are one." He motioned to Syaoran, smiling awkwardly. "You may kiss your princess."

_Will she be soft, will she be strong  
Will she be ready to be wrong  
Is she gonna be taking a chance_

_On her own song_

_Will she look me in the eyes_

_What'll she look like_

_What'll she sound like_

Panic overtook Sakura's entire being. _K-kiss…_ She felt something grip her from the guts, twisting them repeatedly. This was the moment she was most dreading. She bowed her head, trying to hold off the kiss as long as possible. Even when he unveiled her face, she stubbornly kept her eyes lowered to the ground. _But this is perfectly normal, Sakura,_ she told herself. _This is what you've promised yourself, right? Your first kiss will only be for your husband. _She froze. _My husband… _Determined to get the part over with, she closed her eyes as she stiffly lifted her chin for the kiss.

The action did not go unnoticed by Syaoran who then fought a chuckle back down. He was planning to study the face of his bride for a few more moments, but it appeared as if she couldn't wait any longer. "You turned out more beautiful than I have expected," he whispered to her, "Sayuri." And, with all the tender feelings he nurtured for the girl for over twelve years, he closed his eyes and claimed her lips, taking a lot more time than what was needed.

Sakura opened her eyes wide. _Sayuri?_

Bile threateningly rose to her throat, almost choking her. _What the—_ How could this man think she was her sister? And how dare he kiss her like that?

Fists clenched, she waited for the kiss to end, and after what seemed an hour, it finally did. Sakura had considered _not_ putting into action what she could only call as the most deserved physical harm she was ever going to do, but when Syaoran gazed down at her with another one of his nice guy masks, all those seventeen years of sensible and positive breeding vanished in a nanosecond, and she slapped that aggravating gentle smile away from his face.

_Oh, what'll she feel like_

* * *

**Tsuzuku**

Why don't we skip the part where you threaten to bomb me with tomatoes and I try to make a dozen of lame excuses but you bomb me anyway?

No? So does that mean I still wouldn't be getting flames this time?

Fine. Suit yourself.

Anyway, I really had a hard time writing this chapter. The wedding! Haha, didn't really think I could do it, but here it is. And I don't know if anyone noticed it, but my chapters get longer by the number. Like, they just carry on with hardly my permission at all. Hmmm. (On this last part, I felt like writing those nonsense talk mangaka usually do on the originally advertisement parts of their tankoubon.)

This silly, silly person doesn't own What''ll She Look Like (Stephen Speaks) and that nice poem from our groom.

Reviews (you don't get tired of this, do you?) are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest), Constructive Criticisms, however, are remembered, while Flames are challenged, even provoked (actually, please flame me as I have nothing else better to do at the moment).

Don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


	5. The Contracts

**

* * *

How To Love A Prince**

by Jianne

* * *

**Disclaimer**

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather twisted) imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Card Captor Sakura characters and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

**

* * *

Dedication**

To my brother, who spent Valentine's Eve with me. Can't wait to spoil my nephews and nieces, so get out there and make me proud!

**

* * *

Vocabulary**

Minna-sama – Everyone

Kotaishi – Crown Prince

Kotaishihi denka – Crown Princess

Gomennasai. – I'm sorry.

Hontou ni gomennasai. – I'm really sorry.

Tenno – Emperor

Kunaicho – Imperial Household Agency

Chokan – Grand Steward

Kogo – Empress

Daijoubu desu ka? – Are you okay?

Hai – Yes

Unmei – Destiny

Kotaigo – Empress Dowager

Ichi – One

Ni – Two

San – Three

To - And

Shi – Four

Sumimasen. – Excuse me.

Ja – well then

Ai shite'ru. – I love you.

**

* * *

Juuust Before You Read**

I translate Japanese words, phrases and sentences as they are used in the dialogues. Japanese words are romanized loosely, so disregard that part from earlier chapters where I said I won't be adding –u to words that are usually anglicized with one. So…yeah. Itadakimasu!

**

* * *

5Sho – The Contracts**

"_Hey, you."_

"_Sakura, hi."_

"_What are you doing back here? We've been looking all over for you."_

"…"

"_Listen, Christine, are you okay? We noticed how you've been down for the past couple of days and the girls are really worried."_

"_No, it's just that…my parents' divorce got finalized last Tuesday so…"_

"_Wow. I am so sorry to hear that. How's your brother?"_

"_Yeah, well, he thinks it's cool having to switch back and forth from Mom and Dad because they're spoiling him with toy gadgets to make up for their guilt, but I guess they're trying the best they can."_

"_And how about you?"_

"_I got a black Ferrari. Wanna test drive with me later?"_

"_Christine…"_

"_I'm okay. At least that's what I think. Like, I wasn't shocked or anything by the divorce, but it all feels surreal, you know? I mean, I know divorce is as common as rain nowadays, and half the kids of our class have separated parents, but… when I was a kid, I used to watch Mom and Dad laugh and smile at each other and I always thought, that is what I want for me someday. But how am I going to have that now when the perfect couple in the world for me isn't only _not_ perfect, but they're also not even a couple anymore!"_

"_Well, you do know that you're not your parents, right? And we make the choices and take the steps that will ultimately be the reasons why we'd have what we're going to have, so don't worry. Everything will be—"_

"_All-Sakura-right?"_

"_Haha. Yep. And anyway, why are we even talking about marriage stuff when it won't be happening until what— the next decade?"_

"_Probably not until another century."_

"_Now there's that smile."_

"_Oh, Sakura. I hope you find someone who could be deserving to have you."_

"_Yeah, well, Sayuri always tells me that too. But shouldn't we worry if we're deserving to have them as well?"_

"We_ do, but you? Pfft. You, Sakura Kinomoto, could even have a real-live, monarchial prince."_

"_Now I've officially heard every ridiculous thing in this lifetime. Let's go, the others are waiting."_

"_What? Last time I checked Prince William's still up for grabs. Dunno if Harry is too, but…"_

"_Oooh. How about we stalk Prince Charles too? That way we not only get to be fangirls, but if everything goes according to our fanplan, we might even get to be fanprincesses!"_

"_You say that now, but don't come complaining to me when paparazzis block my way to your wedding!"_

"_Haha. And why would I? Doesn't E! News do lives on these?"_

-----

Main Hall, St. Mary's Cathedral

-----

Remorse slowly seeped into Sakura's being when she heard the raw sound echo through the halls of the cathedral. More than ever, she could feel everyone's eyes boring through her. And because she wasn't really comfortable with those harsh, critical glares, she settled into staring at the man before her. Sakura watched as the shocked look on her groom's face eventually became a blank expression.

Which immediately turned into a dark, menacing scowl.

Sakura instantly looked away, as if she had been scorched.

"That was some slap, Spunky."

_The bet…_ She held her breath, and returned the gaze to his face. He wasn't scowling anymore. Instead, he was giving a smile, and for a second Sakura wondered if it had only been her imagination. But as soon as she thought that, she observed that Syaoran's mouth was slightly twitching and his dark eyes were flashing at her in fury, sending more menacing messages to her than curses could ever do.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, but for now smile, dammit. _Or else_." He gritted through his teeth in an awful voice that Sakura complied right away. "Now, kiss me on the cheek." He ordered darkly.

Sakura hesitated a bit, but she did give him a quick peck on his flushed cheek. When she pulled away, he caught her hand and held it to his face for a few moments, effectively hiding his glare directed at her.

After what seemed to everyone as a couple of hours, it was the minister who finally broke the silence. "Minna-sama, please welcome, our Syaoran-kotaishi and our Sakura-kotashihi denka!"

Syaoran felt something inside him freeze and he dropped her hand.

He knew reality should've sunk in when he'd seen her green eyes (of which he was certain he would never have been able to forget), or when he'd recognized her as Spunky from the shrine, or when he'd gotten slapped in front of the entire nation by this slip of a girl. No. Everything full forcedly hit him only when he heard her title.

He turned to his wife.

_Sa…kura?_

----

Chicago, Illinois

----

It was a typical rainy spring day in the neighborhood of South Shore when a group of friends decided to hang out at Christine Walker's house to watch the wedding of their friend on live television. Although they haven't heard from her in over a month, everyone came, and the party had started with much enthusiastic talks and guesses as to how she would cope up with marriage life. Little did Christine know that by the end of their little reunion, she'd be picking up broken glasses of cups and scrubbing the coffee stains on her mother's carpet. And it was all because Sakura, whom they had been close friends with for four years in high school, had slapped the crown prince of Japan. She could still remember the wide-eyed and open-mouthed faces of her friends, their mugs of coffee dropped and forgotten. (_What in the world? Did she just— NO WAY!_) But she knew, if she'd seen her own face, she would have seen a similar expression, but it would be for a different reason.

_I've always known you'd find him soon enough._

As she stood up with a broom in one hand, Christine smiled to herself, knowing that by hitting him, her friend has just made the first choice (and perhaps the first step) towards her prince.

-----

16F, Imperial Floor, The Imperial Hotel, Tokyo

-----

"Gomennasai, gomennasai, hontou ni gomennasai!"

The Emperor Daichi looked at the latest addition to his family, her gown already creased and crumpled with her knees folded under her. _Now I can only remember youth._ The reception had been intended for celebration and for the new princess to meet the entire family. But what happened at the ceremony required drastic changes, like changing the venue to the larger Peacock Room, a banquet hall that offers a little less than 2,000 square meters of floor space, for starters.

He gently sighed. "Well, it wasn't certainly the most excellent first impression that we would have wanted for you, and yes, it has been quite abysmal. Nonetheless, after the reception later, we don't think it's going to get worse." He smilingly added, "So until then, keep your hands to yourself, alright, Kotaishihi denka-san?"

Sakura felt her face burn red with shame. _Idiot, idiot, idiot. You just couldn't wait to embarrass yourself, could you? _"Hai, Ten'no-sama." She bowed her head even lower.

"Oh, I think we're scaring her." The Empress Dowager interjected with a chuckle. "Don't you worry, Kotaishihi denka-san. The Kunaicho has everything smoothened out for your first media conference. And, as the Chokan tells me, the entire situation was salvaged by the rather romantic gestures that you two have done at the last bit." She eyed the Crown Prince, who was sitting rigidly at the corner. "Why, even my heart was beating like a schoolgirl's. Wasn't yours, Kogo-san?"

Yelan put a hand to her heart and smiled at her son. "I admit, Kotaigo-sama, that was very sweet." The Empress had been trying to catch the Prince's full attention since after the wedding, but this time, she was determined to have not only a few words out of his mouth. "But I have to say, I never did thought that our young couple would have presented a…er, _generous_ display of affection." She watched his mouth tightened into a line before closing his eyes and then sighing. A bit glad that she could generate a reaction, as small as it was, from the unnervingly stoic Prince, she decided that she's going to have to push a bit more. With this resolution in mind, she turned back to the Dowager.

"Well evidently, the 15-minute interval before the ceremony had been to our Kotaishi and Kotaishihi denka's benefit." The newlyweds' simultaneous lift of eyebrows went unnoticed. "I was, of course, against it, as I have been informed that it's supposed to be unlucky for the groom so see his bride prior to the wedding, but I see that it had given you time to get reacquainted."

Before either of the two had the chance to discredit this detail, the Empress Dowager cut in and excused herself for having misinformed the Empress. "However, I believe I was rightly notified that they have had the chance to _reintroduce_ themselves," her seventy-three-year old eyes flickered to the careful mask of the prince, "at the Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gu, just a day before the Europe trip."

Both faces of the Emperor and Empress lightened considerably at this piece of information. "Why, that's even better, isn't it, Ten'no-sama? I, for one, wasn't quite enthusiastic when it has been decided that the Kotaishi take the trip just before his fiancée's arrival." Then with a slightly puzzled look, Yelan turned to the oldest member of the family. "But how was this so?"

_Well, it's nice to know I'm not the only confused one here._ Sakura mused over the situation. The Emperor and Empress obviously aren't as informed as the Dowager. Then her eyes flickered over to the blank-faced prince. _But is he?_

Syaoran straightened his back as he felt a different set of eyes looking at him. It didn't even take more than a second to found out who it was, but immediately he regretted this, if only for the unwelcome memory waves that washed over him once he caught her big, disconcerting green eyes.

"_That was some slap, Spunky."  
_

It was her who looked away first. _Of course he is._ Sakura inwardly scoffed. _How stupid of me to even doubt._

"Kotaishihi denka-san? Daijoubu desu ka?"

"H-hai!" _Seriously. I have to do better than this._ With her special mantra back at her mind, Sakura managed to look involved.

The Dowager smiled at her patiently but continued her report. "Interestingly, that had been the first time they met in twelve years, and yet both hadn't had even the slightest idea who each other was." She grinned at an even more confused Sakura and the Empress laughed, obviously pleased. "Well then," she silently reached out her hand to her husband, "if that isn't unmei, then I don't know what is."

_Destiny? Don't make me laugh._

"Ten'no-sama, Kogo-sama, may I please ask an audience with Kotaigo-sama?"

Everybody, including the Emperor, almost jumped at the sudden voice of the Prince. They all turned to him with surprised, perplexed features. Still nothing changed with his facial expression—unmoving, politely blank, almost as if he hadn't just spoken. There was a minute's worth of silence before the Emperor nodded and consented to the request of his son.

As for Sakura, she didn't look up at him when he stood up and bowed to his father, not even when he followed the Dowager, his back turned to them. How could she, when she was busy trying to stop the shudder that had gone up her spine when she'd heard that deep voice again. The voice that commanded her to smile, forced her to kiss him and mocked her when she slapped him. And yet it was the same voice that declared his love for someone else (because it wasn't certainly for _her_) with so heartfelt emotion that it made her throat constrict.

Her expression must have fluently reflected her jumble of emotions because the Empress, in a motherly voice so unlike her son's, granted her leave to retire to her room. Sakura relented, and after bowing to the Imperial couple, she slowly made her way to the lone elevator of their wing of the floor. As she walked, she caught her reflection on the shiny surface of the marble wall's frame. She examined her properly shaped eyebrows, her flawlessly manicured nails, and her wrinkled but stylish wedding gown. Only three months ago, she was a perfectly normal, perfectly happy teenager who has just graduated from high school, looking forward to college life. Who would have known that she'd be a married woman—a real-life princess—the day after she turns 17?

Sakura shook her head, still unbelieving of the recent events. _Of all the people in the world, this could not have happened to _me_._ The usual victim thought. She cringed. Was she really a victim? She didn't believe that. At least she didn't want to. She'd rather think she was helping, probably giving false hope to the Japanese people, but still helping. That's what Grandma Kimiko had told her anyway.

Shifting her thoughts to her current situation, she tried to slowly digest each event into a sequence. When Prince Shuichi died, it was Prince Syaoran who became the successor. After that was the wedding arrangement made when she was four or five, the main reason being to assure and placate the Imperial Household Council, especially the nation, that the Imperial line will continue to exist. Now she was here. Her title embodies hope, but in reality, it was going to be otherwise. Ever since her first talk with the Dowager, Sakura had been wondering what the woman was planning. Sakura tried asking once, but the Dowager just smiled, patted her hand, and gently told her not worry about it.

After all she wasn't going to be in the Palace, when _that_ time comes. Or in Japan, for that matter.

-----

17F, Imperial Floor, The Imperial Hotel, Tokyo

-----

"Will you directly say it, or should I ask first?"

Syaoran fought hard to stay calm. But he was already on his limits, really. And it wasn't hard to understand why. First, someone—that girl—he didn't know was involved. Second, his manipulative grandmother was acting as if everything was according to _her_ plans. Third, he was tricked into believing it was her he was going to marry.

_Sayuri._

He clutched his fists. "Tell me why I shouldn't leave right now. Give me one good reason, Kotaigo-sama, to at least look back when I step out from the Palace Gate."

At least the Dowager had the decency to look solemn. But then her usually twinkling eyes turned serious. "Sit down, Syaoran." She beckoned for him to take the velvet settee beside her. He looked at her as is if she were crazy. _Maybe she is_, Syaoran decided, still pacing. _Maybe this is what evil scheming does to your head._

Kimiko sighed. _It's not like I didn't expect this._ She raised her teacup to her lips and sipped quietly. When she noticed that her grandson's pacing is getting faster instead of slowing down, she sighed again. Without looking up, she said in a monotone voice, "I'll give you four reasons—the only reasons existing, in fact—why you _will_ stay as Crown Prince."

Before he could reply, she continued in the same voice. "Ichi: you have the greatest sense of responsibility in the entire family, your father included."

Syaoran uncharacteristically rolled his eyes. _This is getting old. _He glanced at the Empress Dowager, and noticed for the first time how she looked so weary, so aged. _Well, no wonder_, he shook his head slightly.

"Ni: Shiefa, Fanren, Feimei and Fuutie."

A hitch caught in Syaoran's breath. He would've liked to think this is nothing but underhanded blackmail, but it was true. His sisters were perfectly capable of looking after themselves, but Fuutie…

The flicker of strain reflected on the younger man's eyes urged Kimiko to attack head-on. "San: Shuichi."

By now, Syaoran had stopped pacing. This was why he initially wanted to just have a quick talk. He didn't want to be reminded of the promise he made to his brother. He didn't want to feel this dark, heavy liquid that was a combination of his conscience and guilt creeping from his shadows, grabbing his ankles and making its way to his neck. He retreated to the previously offered seat adjacent to the Dowager's. "to…shi?" he whispered, resigned to his cruel fate. _To my destiny,_ he thought ruefully, remembering what the Empress had said earlier.

He stiffened from the sudden contact of his grandmother's hand on his. He looked up, and he noticed that the twinkle was back in her eyes.

"Shi: what do you think of divorce, Syaoran?

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Private Room A, Peacock Room, The Imperial Hotel, Tokyo

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His sharp eyes observed every flurry of motion in the room. The chambermaids walking as quickly as propriety will allow. A couple of members of the Imperial Household Agency running through the interview's script one more time with their assigned half of the newlywed couple. And the empty frowns from the said couple. _Hmm. Kotaigo-sama has really gone through it, hasn't she?_

"Sumimasen, Yue-chokan."

He turned to the dark-suited brunette who was at least three steps away from him. He recognized her face and her skills, but he couldn't remember her name. If there was anything that the Grand Steward of the Agency was not good at, it was remembering names. Yes, he knew the names of all fourteen (now fifteen, he corrected himself) members of the Imperial Family. But, at the risk of sounding condescending, he just couldn't, or didn't give much effort in remembering the names of those under him. He pulled himself from his train of thoughts when he noticed the young lady was now getting restless. "Hai?"

"Yes, Yue-sama, I'm afraid we have an inconsistency in the script. It says she accepted the proposal before she went to Japan, but the schedule of the Kotaishi the past year was so full and publicized that it would have been impossible for him to have gone to America without the media knowing."

Yue nodded. _Ah, yes. I assigned her to the Crown Princess. But she isn't she usually with that perso—_

"Yue-chokan, if I may speak?"

His expression remained impassive, almost expecting this. He turned to his other side and saw a beaming tall, dark-haired person, wearing the IHA's black suit as well. "Dozo."

"I'm the person in charge of the script for today's interview." He gave a quick glance to the uniformed girl across him. "It might seem that it's a contradiction to the sequence of events, but I assure you it was intended." This time he fully grinned. "With what's already happening, I think a little diversion is required. This _inconsistency_," he emphasized, and the girl let out a frustrated breath, "is a subtle plus on the relationship of their Highnesses. On the fifth page, the Kotaishi admits that he's been back and forth the past two years. He even further confesses that he would sometimes go directly to Chicago from China, South Korea, Thailand, or wherever he's in due to visit."

"Yue-chokan, may I?"

The Grand Steward nodded at her receptively. Inside, he was shaking his head, estimating the number of hours when these two would start bickering again.

"I see where this is coming from, Yamazaki-san, but isn't this against the impeccable image of the Kotaishi and the Agency as well? Since we have misinformed the newspapers, we are going to be seen as incompetent, if not manipulative. Either way it's going to be an equally large issue."

"Mihara-san, that is why I said diversion. Surely you didn't think that a pathetic excuse would satisfy the mediapersons? In any case, the biggest issue in hand right now is to make it seem as if the engagement didn't happen instantaneously and still convince them that it wasn't purposefully hidden from the public. This is our priority."

_Ah, Mihara-san and Yamazaki-san._ Yue finally remembered. But it didn't really matter, since he was certain it was going to slip his mind later. He looked at the grinning face of one to the seething, yet controlled expression of other. "Ja, Mihara-san, I believe Yamazaki-san has a point. As for the diversion, we obviously have to lengthen it out as best as we could. Although I don't think that will be a problem; Asahi Shimbun has another exclusive on the Agency."

Their latest argument temporarily forgotten, the two younger members of the Imperial Household Agency secretly wondered at how their Grand Steward could manage the series of written attacks to their branch.

"Carry on." He simply said, waited long enough for their polite bows and then headed to the conference hall.

Giving one last glare at her co-member, Mihara strode towards the Kotaishihi denka, who was still looking blank. She only noticed Mihara when she was already right in front of her, bowing. "Oh, hi there Mihara-san. What happened?"

Yamazaki, on the other hand, was taking his time walking to the Kotaishi who was wearing a vacant expression. "Kotaishi-sama, the Chokan confirms it." He watched the Prince stand to his full length and lift his chin up decidedly.

"It's time."

"_Shi: what do you think of divorce, Syaoran?"_

_He couldn't believe his ears. Sure, he'd always known his grandmother has a twisted sense of humor, but nothing of that was reflected on her expression right then._

"_Well?"_

"_Are you providing me a way out, Kotaigo-sama?"_

_The Dowager leaned back to her chair. "As a matter of fact I am."_

"_I'm interested." Syaoran said begrudgingly. It wasn't that she knew him too well. It was because they both knew he had no other choice. "What are the ground rules?"_

"_You only have three. All you have to do is make the Kotaishihi denka say the Declaration of the Eternal Promise to you. The time limit is one year. If by then you still haven't made her say it, then a divorce will not happen. The last rule is that you're not to tell this to anyone—anyone at all."_

_Syaoran hesitated for a moment. _The Eternal Promise? Logical, but…that's it?_ Then he noticed the almost smug air around the Dowager. "It looks like you have thought these all out."_

_She pulled a paper folder from the drawer beside her and placed it on the coffee table. "Hai, I have." _

_He surveyed the folder for a couple of seconds before reading through the papers in it. "The method to make her say is irrelevant." Now that the solution's here, he wanted to make sure that everthing's covered._

"_Hai."_

"_And when I do, I simply have to inform you."_

_Noticing that she'd managed to spark something in the Prince, Kimiko allowed herself a little smirk. "That's _if_ you do, and of course I will have to verify with the Kotaishihi denka, but yes, that's all there is to it."_

_Syaoran finally looked up from the contract. An irritatingly satisfied smile was on his grandmother's face and it irked him to no end. Picking up the folder, he stood up and proceeded to the door._

"_Aren't you going to ask what I'm planning?"_

_He replied without even stopping. "It's not as if you've ever answered my questions directly before." He paused when he reached the door. "But don't expect me to just play this game. I'm going to figure out what's up your sleeves," he gave a sidelong glance at his grandmother, "Kotaigo-sama." Then he closed the door behind him._

_She closed her eyes. "Oh, don't worry. I don't."_

Still absorbing the events that have happened the last five hours, Syaoran took a deep breath. _It's not so bad. A solution has already presented itself._ His eyes involuntarily followed the train of a pale green gown to the face of its owner. Of course, he planned to confront the girl after the conference. If he's going to challenge his grandmother, it's better to start with how this girl fits into the picture. _But for now…_

Sakura had to blink twice first to assure herself that she wasn't hallucinating. The Crown Prince was striding towards her in large, confident steps, his face still unreadable. _It's okay, it's okay._ She was compulsively doing piano fingers again. Realizing that she was being sucked in to her anxiety mantra once again, she flexed her fingers and grasped them onto her gown's hem instead. She needn't worry. She has already been assured of how this is going to happen, and most importantly, how this is going to end.

"_You can, Sakura. You will be sacrificing an entire year to complete strangers. This is the best and only thing that anyone can ever do to help us, short of giving up their own lives. And I'm eternally grateful for you." _

_Her mouth hung open. _This is wrong. This is has to be wrong. _"I still don't understand, Ms. Kimiko."_

Back to formalities, I see._ She bit back a disappointed sigh. "You see, the position of the Crown Princess itself already represents hope. You agreeing to fill in this position is already a blessing, however obligatory the situation might be. Now, all we need is time, specifically one year, to convince the Imperial Household Council that the Crown Prince is well-deserved and to win over the entire Japanese people. If this is achieved, then the person on his right hand won't really matter anymore. This is the harsh truth about the Imperial wives, and I plan to take advantage of it. _

"_Of course, there are certain conditions that this new arrangement will require in view of a smooth and an acceptable separation. I will be sending a draft of our contract to your room later. For now, I'll be giving you the conditions. You only have three. One is that this agreement never leaves this room." She waited for Sakura to nod, and then she continued. _

"_The second one is to never declare the Eternal Promise to the Crown Prince. If you can do this until the one year expires, then a divorce will be ensued, and your freedom is returned to you."_

_Sakura frowned. She thought it would be something along the lines of accomplishing her Imperial duties properly. Or building up the image of the Crown Prince. But it was as simple as _not_ saying something. _Could it be this easy?_ "And what is this Eternal Promise's significance, Ms. Kimiko?"_

"_Ah, yes." The older lady's eyes sparkled, as if she were launching into a love story. "It's an Imperial Household Law that has been passed down from history, when the trend of imperial marriages was getting younger and younger, until such time that the brides and grooms were as young as eight years old. Now, of course the traditional consummation was simply not possible, so the current Emperor at that time, who was only of eighteen years himself, decreed the Declaration of the Eternal Promise to be substituted as the consummation for underage marriages."_

_Sakura thought about that for a minute. _Well, it certainly makes sense._ "So basically, if I simply do not say it, then the marriage will not be fully accomplished. Is that right?" The Dowager confirmed it with a satisfied grin. "Okay. I think I can do that. But what are the exact words of the Declaration?"_

_Kimiko gave a wide grin. "Ai shite'ru."_

"Let's go." Syaoran said tonelessly, and then faced the huge wooden doors to the conference hall, where a lot of reporters and cameras were waiting. Without looking at her, he offered his left arm.

Sakura nodded. _She can do this._ She ran her hand down his arm to straighten it. Refusing to return the confused gaze of the Crown Prince, she entwined all five of her fingers into each of his. Then she finally looked up at him, and with a nervous smile, she echoed her husband. "Let's go."

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Tsuzuku**

Oh, hi. Yeah, I was just passing by when I suddenly thought, hmmm. Why don't I upload the next chapter of that old, old story that is so old I couldn't remember its title anymore? And so I did. And so you have just read it. And so I'm going to be uploading the next one tomorrow.

…is what I would like to say, but sadly, it's me, you're stuck with, so…

Anyway, you guys have been wonderful, and I know I don't need to repeat it, but you guys have been wonderful. Especially those who'd willingly undergone the pains of clicking that curious rectangular button that says 'submit a review' even if I'd already asked you not to. Oh well. There has got to be that kind of people, right?

I did intend to post this update today, on this very, very special (special=overrated) event we all know as Valentine's day. Sorry if the chapter is short. And sorry if the chapter's not valentine-ish. Wait. No scratch that. I'm not sorry at all. Because you know what?

You know what?

You know what?

I made this super short oneshot that I have uploaded earlier this hour, just for this stupid fanfic's veeery nice readers. You lucky guys, you…

So before you go on and read that, again, I just want to greet ya'll a happy Valentine's Day!

Of course, reviews are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest). Constructive criticisms, however, _are_ remembered, while Flames are challenged and provoked (let's say, hypothetically, that I don't want or need flames, will you send me one? Hypothetically, of course).

Don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


	6. One Down, Eleven More to Go

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**How To Love A Prince**

by Jianne

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** Disclaimer**

This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather twisted) imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Card Captor Sakura characters and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.

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** Dedication**

To Mocchan, the love of my life. And to Karuho Shiina-sama. I've found another mangaka to stalk. Tee-hee.

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**Vocabulary**

Kotaishi – Crown Prince

Kotaishihi – Crown Princess

Konbanwa, minna-san. – Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Gomen nasai. – My apologies.

Nani sore? – What's that?

Hontou ni? – Really?

Dozo – Go ahead.

Arigato gozaimasu. – Thank you very much.

Hai. – Yes.

Sou ne. – That's right.

Nani? – What?

Oneesan – Older sister

Omoshiroi. – Interesting.

Sumimasen? – Excuse me?

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** Juuust Before You Read**

I translate Japanese words, phrases and sentences as they are used in the dialogues. Japanese words are romanized loosely, so disregard that part from earlier chapters where I said I won't be adding –u to words that are usually anglicized with one. So…yeah. Itadakimasu!

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** 6Sho – One Down, Eleven More to Go**

_"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. The post-wedding conference for the official statements of His Highness Syaoran-kotaishi and Her Highness Sakura-kotaishihi will now commence. Without further ado, let us now hear from them."_

_"Konbanwa, minna-san. Foremost, we express our deepest gratitude in supporting our marriage. The belated pronouncements of the engagement have been unfortunate, but as everyone knows, these past three years have been so demanding…"_

_"Yue-sama, Mihara Chiharu reporting."_

_"Ah. Sorry, I had to attend to something. How's everything here?"_

_"So far so good, Yue-sama. They have read through the script several times and I am confident that by the temple wedding ceremony tomorrow, the entire thing will be reduced to a memorable anecdote at best."_

_"Excellent. And as for Kotaishihi-sama's outburst?"_

_"Well, we have determined to work from it through the romance angle and divert from it as far as possible."_

_"Divertion? That's even worse than denial, did you know, Mihara-san? When you deny something, you at least give out answers directly. But when you divert, not only is it an insult to their intelligence, but in this situation, it is also an insult to their eyesight. The entire world saw the slap, for goodness' sake."_

_"B-but we have read through the questions they will be asking, and the mediapersons certainly know it's prohibited—" _

_ "…however, I don't say these as excuses. It is but an explanation that our time together through courtship has been very constrained and infrequent. But because it is real and it is precious, we have been able to come through."_

_"Then what might be the reason behind Her Highness' actions at the ceremony from earlier today, Kotaishi-sama?"_

_"You were saying, Mihara-san?"_

_"Gomen nasai, Yue-sama. I'll take care of it. Agent Mazuhiro, please escort Jinkama Reiko-san from—"_

_"No, wait. I think Kotaishi-sama is about to say something."_

_"Good question. I was actually wondering if somebody was going to have the courage to ask."_

_ "E-eh?"_

_"It's actually an interesting story, although telling it might disclose a few private details between us. But Kotaishihi-san and I have decided to do so, for clarification's sake."_

_"Wait wait wait. This is not on the script! It's not on the—"_

_"Relax, Mihara-san. It's the Prince, after all."_

_"I have explained earlier that the time we had together was very rare, and so, because we could only see each other roughly once a month, twice if a meeting abroad has been cancelled, there also wasn't time to be…intimate. Or, to put it directly, the first kiss that we had was our wedding's."_

_"Ehh?" "Nani sore?" "Hontou ni?"_

_"As expected. Our Prince never disappoints."_

_"If I may, Kotaishi-sama?"_

_"Ah, hai, Kotaishihi-san. Dozo."_

_"Arigato gozaimasu. Um, anyway, so before the wedding, we had an agreement that the k-kiss would be a quick, simple one, because not only would it be our first together, but believe it or not, it would also be _my_ first kiss. Though as you have witnessed, it was anything but quick, nor was it simple, really. And so, I was very embarrassed that my first instinct was to—er, push him away."_

_"But _Sakura_, you can't really blame me for everything. No man could have resisted doing such a thing with a bride as beautiful as you. Am I right, gentlemen?"_

_"Hai! Hai!"_

_"I don't believe it, Yue-sama. We've pulled through."_

_"And unscathed at that."_

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Imperial Carriage, Shuto Expressway

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"Okay. So what do we do now? Wave like beauty queens?"

Thinking that humor could somehow alleviate the cloud of tension that only kept on getting heavier and heavier ever since the temple wedding ceremony, Sakura looked to her right expectantly. The man beside her, however, seemed resolute in sculpting his perpetually stoic image, so she was replied to with but a slight inclination of his head. "Still not ready to joke around, huh?" It was of course a rhetorical question, and a lame one at that, but when she thought about it, what did she expect, really? The Crown Prince was polite with her at best, and at worst… well, she was still weighing if his superior, condescending manner he always seemed to show around her was the worst possible behavior he could muster. With her, at least.

It was five minutes after the carriage started to move that Sakura realized it had been an affirmative nod; the prince himself started to raise his right hand in greeting to the citizens, a perfectly reserved smile pasted on his face.

_Oh._ "Seriously?" The tone of disbelief that was very much evident on Sakura's voice caused a pause from Syaoran and later a sardonic reply: "What—you think it's amusing?" He half-expected her to suppress her facial sentiments as he'd seen her do during the entire temple ceremony but she looked thoughtful and then determined.

"No, nothing like that. I'd merely reflected I could do something else that might not bury me deeper into the blatant arrogance that I have admittedly, although unintentionally, displayed recently," she replied expressionlessly. Then suddenly she giggled. "I still can't speak so formally with a straight face after all." When he didn't reply, she turned her face ahead and sighed. "In any case, I don't think waving is appropriate under the circumstances. Isn't it, Kotaishi-sama?"

Syaoran deliberated over it for a moment, and he found himself agreeing half-heartedly. "What are you going to do then?" His back was turned to her while he continued to make polite gestures to the public facing the right side of the carriage. When she didn't answer after several minutes, he finally swiveled to her, and watched his wife do the one thing he never thought a royal would do to mere commoners.

She was bowing. The regretful, deepest, 90 degree-bow. The one that someone only does to show utmost respect or to humbly ask for forgiveness. It was unheard of. And yet Sakura was doing it right then, repetitively even, once for every direction.

He couldn't believe it. He grabbed her arm as subtle as possible and whispered threateningly. "Is what you've already done still not enough of a disgrace to my family?" But she didn't reply, nor bothered even looking at him. She simply continued bowing, which caused Syaoran to free her arm and his eyes to narrow at her. Sakura's expression was earnest, and she really looked as if she believed she was doing the right thing.

Then he noticed that the large crowds had stopped stirring, and the cheering noises have died down. Everyone was in the same state of shock that he was in, fully knowing that what the princess was doing was unbelievably ridiculous.

He saw that several of the Imperial Household Agents have started to come towards them, their concerns of the Imperial Family's image evident on their faces. He sighed. _Fine._ Syaoran motioned for the carriage to stop. Then he straightened his spine, and for the first time outside the Palace, he, too, bowed.

----

NTV Studio Office, Tokyo

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"Seriously, the Prince never fails to amaze me."

Rika looked up from her laptop and shook her head at Jinkama Reiko who was playing with her office chair. She was used to these bouts of coffee-enthused energy from the producer of her show. Tucking a portion of her short-cropped dark hair behind her ear, she replied. "Sou ne. I was especially stunned. Nobody expected that, least of all from him."

Jinkama nodded in agreement, although she didn't look as if she was surprised at all. "But this new Princess, she's definitely something, isn't she, Sasaki-san?" Her boss wheeled to her table at a very unsafe speed, but as usual, she remained unfazed by the eccentricity of Jinkama. "Did you see her expression when she was bowing earlier? Well, of course you did. You were there. But she's only seventeen, right?"

"Just turned last week. She sure has spirit, that girl." Rika idly commented, having resumed in writing her article for the station's website. She paused and smiled at the screen. "Familiar, isn't it, Jinkama-san?"

"Yeah, it's like having Satoshi-san back." With a hand on the corner of Rika's table and her feet tucked under her, Jinkama prepared to whirl herself around. "And we all know how we need someone like that in the Palace."

Rika plugged in her headphones when Jinkama started screaming for somebody to help her stop when she clearly didn't want to. She finished the last paragraph of her article and was about to email copies of it to her boss (who was still screaming beside her) and the show's copywriters when she came across a website from her alma mater's homepage. She scanned the logs, and a smile appeared on her face. After a few more clicks, she called out, "Guess what I found, Jinkama-san?"

"Naaaaniiii?"

Rika rolled her eyes and then stopped the chair from swiveling with one hand. "The online journal of an oneesan." She rotated her LCD monitor towards the puzzled face of her boss.

Quickly recovering from the dizziness, Jinkama quickly scanned the page, her eyes widening by the second.

_Omoshiroi._

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Houmei Den, Kokyo

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"That new daughter of ours, she did it again."

Empress Yelan smiled at her husband's tone of resigned endearment and replied, "I think we have to be ready for more of these surprises. I feel a series of refreshing waves of youth crashing into the Palace."

"Minna-sama. please welcome, His Highness Syaoran and Her Highness Sakura!"

"And here comes the next one."

The Crown Couple, followed by an entourage of chamberlains and agents, walked through the huge doors of the audience room with contrasting expressions: the Prince with his usual aloof look and the Princess with a sheepish, nervous smile. Instinctively looking for an ally, Sakura scanned the audience and found Princess Tomoyo's slender figure among the other identical-looking princesses whom she has yet to meet with. Sakura's heart skipped a beat, not knowing what face to show. She was pretty sure the news of her once-more impertinence must have reached her sensei's ears already. But suddenly Princess Tomoyo gave her the approving, proud smile she always showed when she knew Sakura had done a good job. This made Sakura break out into a full beam, which the Princess quickly returned.

Sakura then saw another familiar face, the one heading the line of the female royal members at the far end. It was the Empress Dowager, and she was wearing a similar pleased, proud face, only that it had a hint of a challenging smirk, and it was directed to the man beside her.

Syaoran chose to resolutely ignore the unrelenting stares of different degrees from almost everyone from the audience. It was very difficult though; not one from the Imperial Family, Imperial Household Agency and Imperial Household Council was absent. And that smug expression of Kotaigo wasn't at all helping. _Nor was it meant to_. He sighed and glanced at Sakura to his back. _But _that_ girl is definitely the last person fit to become the princess_, he thought as he caught her almost stumbling on the hem of her very expensive gown. _She seemed okay back when I first met her. She was even smart enough to catch on during the press conference, but her behavior is utterly inexcusable._ He counted from the top of his head the misadventures of the little princess: slapping him, not showing even an ounce of respect to him, overstepping her boundaries with him and, now this one really takes the cake, embarrassing him in front of everyone when she'd bowed because then _he'd _needed to bow!

_That may have proved to be effective_, he conceded as he saw Yue-san gave a small nod to Sakura when she passed by him. _Nevertheless…_

_These heels are definitely homicidal,_ Sakura thought darkly, _because they're mercilessly killing my feet. _She almost let out a mirthless grin at her lame joke but was careful not to. Her stone of a husband certainly wouldn't appreciate it. _Not that it would be the first time._ She heaved a deep breath, desperately calming her nerves. This was futile though, since the second she remembered what had happened after the carriage incident earlier that day, the blood rushed to her head, making her anger even more difficult to control.

_"I was under the impression that you were taught the Imperial traditions. Now, if whoever that half-wit of a teacher didn't get it through your skull, then know this: Imperial members never apologize. Much more bow as if you'd needed pardon. But congratulations. Not only have you insulted Imperial traditions, but more importantly, you have also insulted me! You have accomplished an unbelievable feat, and it's not even past your first official week. Imagine what you can achieve in a month!"_

As if that weren't enough, he'd turned and walked off, not even giving her a chance to explain. _For him to be even more important than tradition itself, that arrogant jerk!_ Sakura almost recoiled from the sudden surge of this new emotion. She hadn't experienced anything near anger in her entire life, but now, it felt like the term anger wasn't even enough. _Fury is more like it_, she decided.

Suddenly, Syaoran took longer, bigger steps, clearly in a hurry to get across the lengthy room where the Imperial Couple were. Sakura scurried after and glared at the back of his head, doing her best to maintain the strict three-step-behind rule from him. Almost as abruptly, he stopped, and it took half of her strength to not trip over her feet. Taking in a deep breath, she straightened her spine and meekly looked up at the standing Parents of the nation.

Easily the best-looking couple Sakura had ever had the pleasure of seeing, the Imperial Couple were both looking regal and elegant as always. They were standing tall on an elevated pedestal, with a small altar in front of them. Sakura noted that they were also dressed like English Royals, with their matching white western outfits and crowns on their heads.

As the Emperor's speech went on, she felt her shoulders relax a bit. The Emperor and the Empress strongly exuded familiarity, and Sakura couldn't help but wonder if all parents were this way when in the center of their family. Despite the presence of non-familial members in the room, the feel was still there, and it was strengthened by the warm smiles of the Imperial Couple. She recognized this atmosphere, and she felt a lump in her throat when she realized how vague the memory of _her_ family was in her head.

_"I understand why you had to keep it from me. It's okay. Yes, I'm fine, really."_

She'd lied, and she was pretty sure Sayuri had known the truth anyway. Of course she wasn't fine, but saying that out loud would be just depressing. And it wasn't like she'd been blackmailed into doing this. _Well, I might have been sort of blackmailed…_ But in the end, she was the one who got worked up into helping the Family, wasn't she?

_"This is just like you, Sakura."_

Touya had told her before he left for Los Angeles. She'd been in one of the dressing rooms in the cathedral, reflecting on what had happened during the wedding. Her brother had entered with a large smirk on his face, looking shamelessly proud of her sister's sudden if not uncharacteristic display of violence. In his typical brash manner, he'd given final reminders, hesitantly asked her again if she was sure she was fine and then finally hugged her goodbye. What made this the hardest was that had she expressed even the tiniest bit of regret, she knew Touya would've gladly taken her with him, and _darn it_, how she'd wanted to. But instead, Sakura had simply smiled, given him a wrapped box and wished him a safe trip.

_It's not so bad. I mean, even if he said that, I really only have eleven more months to go, right?_ It was a pathetic shot at cheering herself up even inside Sakura's head. Try as she might, she just couldn't find the optimism in her. How could she, when she felt as if she was being drained of resolve just by being behind that egotistical prince? _No,_ Sakura decided. _I'm here ultimately because of my decision._ _I'm going to see this through, and I don't plan on doing so with my head bowed down._

-----

Rockefeller College, Princeton University, New Jersey

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_The wedding _is_ as abrupt as it seems, even to me, her sister._

Sayuri typed on her keyboard, a look of pure concentration on her face.

_I never thought their relationship was that serious, and until recently, it wasn't even clear to me if they had a relationship or not. I, myself, have only met Prince Syaoran twice or thrice, and Touya only once. So just imagine my shock when Sakura told me about the proposal. _

She paused and frowned at the last sentence, but resumed typing after a few seconds.

_No, actually, the shock came after she told me she'd accepted the proposal. It was so out of the blue, but more than that, it was very, very weird. To those who know Sakura personally, you know what I'm talking about. She's not the type who keeps these types of things to herself, nor does she even have the ability to do so. She's very open and expressive, practically transparent to her friends, even more so to her family._

A lump formed in Sayuri's throat as she started another paragraph.

_I guess I was hurt more than I let on, because I couldn't even muster the courage to attend the wedding. I know it was unforgivably selfish and cowardly of me, but I just couldn't. The engagement, the wedding preparations, everything happened so impossibly fast, and in the end I just…_

Her hands didn't want to cooperate, but she forced a finger to finish it for her.

_couldn't._

Sayuri let out a shaky breath as she uploaded the latest entry on her blogsite. There were so many holes in her plan, but she was going to have to make it work. She'd watched the news, and she knew Sakura slapping the prince was a result of what little rebellion left inside of her. Now she couldn't let her sister drift away from her any more than she already had.

Her eyes flickered to the gift Sakura sent her. She took the card and read it for what may have been the hundredth time.

_ Hey Sayu!_

_ I was pretty bummed you couldn't come to the wedding, but it's okay. I know you have a good reason for not being able to go, so don't make yourself sick of guilt, you hear me? It wasn't that much anyway. Of course it was all grand and everything was expensive (I swear the jewelries were custom made to match the Mori gown), but I still think Ms. Harriet's was far more romantic. So you didn't really miss much, but I wish I could've seen you. It feels like it's been so long since we spent time together._

_ Anyway, I leave you this: my prized John Woo DVDs. I know you've never appreciated action movies as I do, but you can watch this whenever you think of me, and I promise I'd do my best to keep myself from gagging when I read your romance novels. Haha._

_ Also, I'm not sure if they told you, but I don't think I'll be able to contact you anytime soon. (Technology's apparently banned in the Palace, can you believe it?) But please know that I love you and I still think you're the best sister and I miss you so very much._

_Love, Sakura._

Sayuri blinked back the tears from her eyes and stared at her laptop's screen with newfound determination.

_ It's now only a matter of time._

-----

Crown Prince Residence, Akasaka Estate, Tokyo

-----

Sakura felt light-headed. It was like she was having an out-of-body experience. Like something inside her burst and scattered when she accepted the arrangement, and now they're crawling back into her, slowly, painfully. She leaned against the wall, trying to balance herself. She was breaking into cold sweats, her hands were trembling and her view of the room was blurring. Her anxiety increased when she realized she was actually having a nervous breakdown.

_Crap._

As she had observed in the past days, the feeling of surrealism never really faded when you're in this kind of situation. The rest of the ceremony and the banquet had finally been concluded. Although she'd been excited to meet the rest of the Imperial Family, Empress Yelan had noticed her tiredness and decided to put it off until the next day. Before she realized it, she and Syaoran were in the Akasaka Estate, a detached palace compound ten kilometers or so away from the Imperial Palace. She discovered it was where the official residences of the Crown Prince as well as the other family members' were. When she stepped into _their_ palace, she was surprised to see that it was more or less of a western style interior. She politely offered her appreciation, which Syaoran tonelessly accepted.

Naturally, the Prince had been cold and distant during and after their ride to the estate. Not a word was exchanged between them, and Syaoran had simply bowed when they parted ways to their different rooms. Sakura couldn't help but feel a bit hurt because despite the artifice of their marriage, they were husband and wife after all.

_Just legally. _She slightly shook her head, forcing it out her mind. She'd requested Mihara to postpone the tour of the entire palace and show her the room where she'd be staying at. Only it wasn't really a room, more of like a condominium unit inside the palace. Even her exhaustion couldn't suppress her amazement as she realized she had a kitchen and a bedroom the size of her living room.

This amazement turned to frustration later when she'd taken a quick, warm shower in the equally humongous bathroom, and instead of feeling refreshed, her body seemed to recognize that it had used up every ounce of energy at the same time her brain decided to re-process the terrible reality.

Taking one step and two gulps of breath at a time, she was almost cursing the long distance to her bedroom. She was halfway to the lavishly covered bed when her knees gave out. _What the heck._ Finally giving in to fatigue, Sakura collapsed on the warmly carpeted floor, where she slept dreamlessly for the rest of the night.

-----

Imperial Household Agency Quarters, Crown Prince Residence, Akasaka Estate, Tokyo

-----

"Stop laughing."

Yamazaki Takashi paused for a couple of seconds to put an exaggeratedly mortified face on before he gave in to bouts of laughter again.

"That prank wasn't funny, you know. I really thought I was going to die. And by my hands, you will, if you don't stop laughing your head off." Chiharu glared at her friend from childhood. "Come to think of it, d_o_ laugh your head off, Yamazaki. That way I won't feel obligated to spend an hour of mourning for your death." She went through the exit door and sped up her steps, hoping to make him leave her alone.

_Ah, sharp-tongued as ever._ Following her, Yamazaki gazed at her retreating back admiringly. They had known each other from when they were little because both their fathers had served as Imperial Household Agents when they were still alive. He hadn't been planning on pursuing the same career, but when he'd learned that Chiharu decided to continue her father's profession, he'd signed up as well. The years of training as both bodyguards and tradition scholars were difficult as hell, but he'd never, not even for one moment, regretted it. Serving his country and the Imperial Family, preserving national treasures—every day was interesting. But if he was honest, what made every day _fun_ was Chiharu, and the fact that she rises to his bait all the time. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're afraid Yue-sama would be so disappointed he wouldn't remember your name anymore." He waited for Chiharu to knock on the door and enter the Crown Princess' residential room before calling out to her, "Oh, but wait, he already doesn't, does he?"

"But Yue-sama doesn't remember anyone's na—Takashi!"

Yamazaki was instantly alert at the sudden change of her tone and hurried into the room. He found Chiharu bending over the body of the Kotaishihi. "She's breathing, but it's a bit irregular. Pale, sweating and slightly shivering. She probably just fainted, but Yue-sama said—"

"No problem. I'll get him."

"Okay, thanks."

-----

Yuri Room, Crown Prince Residence, Akasaka Estate, Tokyo

-----

Sakura opened her eyes, then instantly closed them. The light was blinding. _Funny, I always close the lights before I sleep…_

Her right temple began to throb painfully. "Argh." she groaned, then she shifted to her side so that she could snuggle her head back into the pillow, hoping the pulse in her head would go away. It didn't. So she opened her eyes again, slower this time, and reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. It wasn't there.

This made the fog in her head clear a bit. _I knew I placed one in here. I always do._ She sat up carefully, her eyes straining to see where she'd placed her eyeglasses. _Ah. There it is._ She grabbed it and put it on in one motion. She blinked rapidly until her vision cleared, but a fresh wave of head ache came with it. "Coffee coffee coffee…" she massaged her forehead while trying to list down the things she'd be doing to distract herself from the pain. _Change clothes, turn on the coffee maker, brush teeth, probably even make pancakes just in case Touya drops by again, what else…_

She was halfway down in unbuttoning her pajamas when she noticed an unusual accessory on her left hand. Specifically on her fourth finger. She stretched out her hand and inspected this very unusual ring. _Hey,_ w_hat a very nice ring!_ She giggled to herself. With a diamond ring on her finger, she felt very grown-up, almost like someone else, as if she were an adult, as if she were a married woman…

"Crap! Crap! Cra—"

"Not quite a morning person, are you?"

Sakura turned around to find her husband sitting on a cream-colored chaise longue a few meters to the side of her bed watching her as if he were watching the National Geographic channel.

"What the heck are you doing in here?" she half-screamed. But Syaoran only made himself more comfortable on the settee and raised an eyebrow. Sakura was about to ask him again when she traced his eyes' direction to her—

"Get out! Get out!" Sakura clutched at her chest, desperately trying to rebutton her pajama shirt and stop her face from blushing. She heard him stand up and walk, but when she turned back to him, he was leaning on the doorframe, now giving her with a pitying expression.

_What is it now?_ Sakura stood up and glared at him. "Look. It's too early in the morning. Can whatever you have to say to me wait for at least an hour?"

True to her expectations, Syaoran simply ignored her and wondered out loud. "Yue-san overdid himself this time. I cannot even begin to imagine how they let a very little girl like you marry. Now that must have taken a lot of manipulation." Syaoran sighed. "How old are you exactly, hmm? Fourteen? Fifteen, maybe?" He barely got the last word out when a slipper hit his forehead. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing the sore part angrily. "What the hell was that?"

"That," Sakura seethed, "was my patience. Which I just threw out the door. And I would like you to do the same to your insufferable, egotistical self." She huffed and turned her back on him.

"S-sumimasen?"

Sakura swiveled back to him so fast, the entire bundle of her hair sprayed all over her face. She impatiently pushed them away and put on a false smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was under the impression that you understood Nihongo. Let me make it clear to you in plain English then. _Get. Out._ Or should I make you, instead?"

When he didn't budge (from shock or arrogance, Sakura didn't really care which), she steadily walked towards him and pushed him as hard as she could until he was out the door.

It was when the door was slammed on his face that Syaoran regained his abilities to close his mouth and blink again. _What just hap—_ The door suddenly opened, with the same red-faced Sakura gripping the knob so hard, her knuckles were turning white. Almost as abruptly, she bit out, "And for the record? I'm seventeen, and I'm five feet and three inches, which just happens to be the average height for Japanese women, you idiot!" After giving him one last death glare for good measure, she slammed the door to his face again.

To which Syaoran could only ask out loud, "What the hell?"

**Tsuzuku**

Somebody asked me before, "how come you don't want to receive any reviews?" I went dot-eyed and went, "I don't?" I mean, seriously, name me an author who doesn't like getting reviews and let's crucify this author together. Of course I do want to receive reviews! In fact, I desperately like getting them (and the _?noway!_-ness that usually comes with it). Not because I tell everybody not to leave reviews if they don't want to doesn't mean _I_ don't want them to. (okay, that sounded even more confusing.)

Bottom line is, I just don't want you, my dear, tortured readers to feel pressured to review so that I'd update more or faster. (I'd like to believe they're smarter than that. Also, no great amount of reviews can or will make me update more or faster. Hmm. Well, maybe if I get an average of a hundred? I'd definitely be scared not to.) I understand that there are authors out there who require a number of reviews before updating, but I'm sorry (?) to say I'm not one of them. As I've mentioned I don't know how many times before, I write not because somebody reviews, not even because somebody reads my work, but simply for the fun of writing's sake itself. And for my insanity too, I think.

Oh crap. Have I been caught? Of course I have. Yes, that was actually my cunning (if I do say so myself) but truthful way to divert everyone from noticing that it has been ages (say it with me now: _ages_) since my last update. It's been so long that my fondness for parentheses has tripled since the fifth chapter. I know it's bad writing but (here it goes) I've been SO busy it isn't funny anymore. And it didn't help that it has been really difficult in acquiring the material for the imperial events; if you google it, I swear nothing worth reading comes up, and that is if you're lucky enough get a search result that actually matches. So I've had help from Ben Hill's Princess Masako: Prisoner of Chrysanthemum Throne, which, from what I've heard, has been banned in Japan, so, yeah.

But back to the story: now that the wedding's out of the way, I can work on the kinks between those two. Boy, is it going to be a long ride. Or not. I dunno. Do you want it to be longer chapters with fast pacing or shorter chapters with lengthy events? The frequency of updates is completely irrelevant (meaning, no difference) though, so no news there. What else…Oh, right, I corrected the Japanese term for Crown Princess, which is simply _Kotaishihi_, as opposed to earlier chapters' _Kotaishihi denka_, which is Her Highness the Crown Princess.

Anyway, thank you guys for reading and of course, reviews are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest). Constructive criticisms, however, _are_ remembered, while flames are (very much) provoked.

Finally, don't review if you don't want to.

**Nemo me impune lacessit.**


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